Saving my Brother
by Bright Anarchy
Summary: Who exactly needs saving, the baby bird or the tattered reborn crow? Surely they will drive Batman, the Justice League and Young Justice to distraction while they try to figure it out. (Some age reversal, Tesseract Child Robin)
1. Making himself at Home

**This story contains the Tesseract Child Robin. To understand the exact nature of his character, I encourage you to read the story Tesseract Child. It is in the Young Justice/Avengers crossover section.**

 **If you'd rather just jump right in, the following exposition contains enough spoilers from the Tesseract Child story to help things make sense. Robin is Dick Grayson however he was missing for eight years and de-aged seven years while retaining many, but not all of his memories. His memories up to age five are completely his own, clear, crisp and fresh. The Martians, Megan and J'onn did their best to allow him keep his memories from age five on.**

 **He is five now (twenty years after his birth). Bruce created a new identity for him as Damian Grayson Wayne his four year old biological son. Tim is currently Red Robin. Jason is Red Hood. The traditional Damian was never born because the Tesseract incident created waves of changes. That he still exists in name has to do with the universe's attempt to follow it's preferred path.**

 **Changes include, this Justice League is considerably more vigilant towards Boomtubes, Batman hasn't been active in the Justice League since Robin's disappearance. The Young Justice Team remains more or less intact. Wally West the original Kid Flash is engaged to be married to Artemis this summer. Robin had been invited to be ring bearer.**

 **This story begins days after Robin's return. Everyone is still adjusting. Dick is not entirely ready to think of himself as Damian yet. He is currently deaf and has a broken arm. He picked green for the cast.**

Dick woke suddenly his face wet with tears and memories of his parents fading from conscious thought. He couldn't remember the dream exactly, mostly just vague feelings, all of them unsettled. He slipped out of bed and padded softly to the bathroom to wash his face. He glared at the stool by the bathroom sink. Most five year olds were tall enough to reach the sink without a stool weren't they? Dick got a wash cloth and used the tap attached to the bath tub instead. When it came to certain things Dick still thought of himself as, well he'd have been thirteen now. Independence was hard to loose once you'd had a taste for it. Unless Bruce or Alfred were there, he'd brush his teeth over the toilet or wash his hands using the tub and avoid the fact that he couldn't reach the sink without the stool. It was a nice stool. It had a squirrel carved into it. He liked the stool. He just didn't want to use it.

Dick put his slippers on tightening the velcro. Dick didn't like flip flop slippers. He thought of them as boobie-traps for sleepy feet. His house slippers were fuzzy and warm but they stayed on like proper shoes. Papa Alfie insisted on slippers or indoor shoes in the house. Dick's were fire engine red.

Dick went to stare at his clock. It was five o'clock. He had a kitty-kat clock. The eyes looked left and right with each little ticky-tock and it had ears and whiskers. He couldn't hear the ticky-tock but he could feel it if he rested his fingers against the clock. He carefully picked up the clock and put it right against his ear to check to see if he could hear it yet. Doctor Leslie said he would be able to hear again but that it would just take time. He listened ...no ticky-tock, not yet, he put the clock down disappointed.

All yesterday had been spent shopping with Grandpa for little boy things. The stool was new, the clock was new, the slippers were new. His new bed hadn't been delivered yet. It had a ladder and a slide and a batcave underneath with a curtain you could hide behind. Dick hadn't explained to anyone yet how play area under the twin loft bed was his very own batcave but he had plans for it.

He was going to set up his computer at the desk under the bed and the bookshelf could store all sorts of useful supplies that were just ordinary enough that no one would suspect that they were back up emergency equipment: a first aid kit, a microscope, a flashlight, marbles, an invisible ink wipe board for secret messages, escrima sticks disguised as juggling devil sticks.

Not even Batman would know he was practising if his escrima sticks looked like juggling sticks, thought Dick still staring at his clock and making plans. Dick sighed. He wasn't at all sleepy but with all of the late nights shared by the Wayne household, the rest of the family were late risers. It would be at least two hours before anyone was awake. He took Bear and silently slipped down to the kitchen to get a little something to tide him over until breakfast.

Stupid fancy glass juice jug was too heavy. Dick spilled juice all over the floor trying to get some in his cup. With the new long arm cast he couldn't get the dumb juice jug back in the fridge, the counters were too high so he left it on the floor. The mop wasn't in the walk-in pantry where it used to be but there was a jar of peanut butter and a Tupperware container of breakfast biscuits left over from yesterday. Dick smiled and grabbed the peanut butter and the biscuits. He had a picnic on the floor of the kitchen next to his mess looking at it and wondering where the mop was. Bear was sitting on the kitchen counter high and dry looking down on him. Dick waved up at his stuffed friend with a smile the finished off his peanut butter breakfast biscuit. Maybe the mop had been moved to the front hall closet?

Abandoning: the peanut butter, open container of biscuits, juice jug and spill on the floor, Dick wandered over to the front hall closet to look for the mop and noticed looking through the glass side panels next to the front door, that his new dump truck had been left outside. The front door had all sorts of fancy locks on it that Dick couldn't reach but Wayne Manor was a heritage house. It was old. Right near the front door was a milk/mail delivery box. Dick unlatched the inner door then pushed open the outer door. He could see his truck but he couldn't reach it. An adult would never fit but an undersized five year old contortionist acrobat had no trouble squeezing himself through the small space. The long arm cast was a little bit of trouble. He was stuck for a few minutes before he jimmied himself loose and fell back grinning, free last.

Triumphant, Dick went to collect his new dump truck then turned to climb back through the milk door. Uh, oh... He hadn't heard the slap click as the spring on inner door automatically latched behind him. Dick drummed his fingers on the inner door worriedly. He sighed. There's a good chance I'm in trouble now, he thought.

Resigned to it as the house was well and thoroughly locked down but determined to let his family finish their peaceful night's sleep, Dick took the dump truck and wandered down to the pond. He spend a little while filling the truck with gravel then dumping it out and plowing through the gravel pile. He went back to the main drive and pushed the truck all the way down to the main gates. A lot of it was down hill and the truck could be encouraged to zoom far ahead.

Looking out the main gates, Dick thought back to the dream that had woken him in the first place. Light was just starting to brighten the horizon. He knew his parents were dead but at the same time he had avoided thinking about it or believing it with a determination that was fiercely stubborn. Dick looked back at the manor thinking of Bruce and the decision to call him Daddy. It was still a long time before anyone woke up. He wanted to do this on his own; to face this on his own. Dick slipped himself through the front gates. ...well maybe not completely on his own; he reached back and pulled his truck through with him and then started heading towards the St. Augustus Cemetery.

It was a long, lonely walk. Dick hugged his truck, his mind focused on memories older than he was; Dad and Mama, an embrace, a shared laugh, a bedtime story, his mother and father dancing under the stars, eating peanuts in the shell with his dad while Eleanore Elephant snuffled through his hair with her trunk. He was a little cold in only his slippers and pyjamas. His thousand mile stare was interrupted from time to time with shivers. His expression was solemn but determined.

The sun had risen by the time he got there which was just as well, visiting his parents grave for the first time in his natural memory was hard enough without adding the uneasy feelings of dim predawn shadows. The two simple white granite headstones shone a little in the early morning sun. The grass was dewy and cold.

Giovanni Grayson - Mary Grayson,

Richard Grayson – Karla Grayson and son John Grayson

Uncle Rick had eventually died too noted Dick touching the headstone silently and tracing the name Richard Grayson. He'd been named for his uncle. I know I'm not really Richard anymore but in my heart I always will be thought Dick, whose name was now officially Damian.

Dick knelt in front of his parent's grave stone. He leaned forward and quietly kissed it. The stone was cool and smooth. He touched his face which was wet with errant tears. This happened thirteen years ago. It was old news to everyone but him. Time had rewound around him and for him it was new. He had the martian memories of the times when he'd been eight, nine, ten, eleven then twelve and almost thirteen but this was not a memory. It was real and cold and hard. Suddenly Dick was crying not poetic silent gentle tears but loud ugly sloppy I'm five and I want my dad, I want my momma and they won't ever, ever be here again tears. He felt empty, head-achy, exhausted and dirty by the time he'd cried himself out. Dick pushed his dump truck through the grave yard over to the back fence where wild flowers were growing. His slippers and pyjamas were soaked with the morning dew. He filled the dump truck with flowers and pushed it back to his parent's grave. He laid out the wild flowers in the shape of a heart then picked up his dump truck to go home.

The rail trail lead back, part of the way towards the manor. He took that home not wanting the prying eyes of passing cars to intrude on him right then. All thoughts of the passage of time had long since fled. He trudged slowly in the direction of home stopping at a bench to rest for a while. He was exhausted. Though he'd not intended to, he fell asleep for a little while. A large German Shepard's wet nose sniffing at him woke him up. Dick grinned and pat it's head. He gave him a few scritches under the collar. He was rewarded with a big wet doggy lick right on the face. Dick pulled back a little nervous when he saw the dog begin to bark. It looked a little alarming.

The dog raced back along the trail the way he'd come, jumping excitedly. Dick saw a hefty looking police man with canine unit written on his vest in large letters come jogging down the path. The man looked to be yelling? Honestly, it had been a long morning. Dick was not at his best. In his head, the friendly dog turned to that attack dog you see on police shows who bit at the arm of the bad guy with the gun. There was a lot of corruption in the Gotham police department. Dick had been kidnapped countless times. He just freaked out and bolted. No one can run quite like a Robin but Dick had no equipment, a broken arm with a heavy cast, he was wearing slippers and he was tired. Dogs are fast.

Up at tree, a couple hundred yards into the forest Dick had run out of places to run. The dog was sat at the base of the tree his tongue hanging out playfully, his head tilted to one side. Dick could see he was occasionally barking. He could see the policeman coming jogging through the woods, although once the policeman had him in sight, he stopped and appeared to be watching him considering. He pulled out his radio apparently talking on it. He seemed to call and signal to the dog and it lay down but he was too far away for Dick to read lips.

The stalemate continued for a good half hour then coming through the woods Dick saw Bruce running towards him looking frantically worried and there was Papa Jim, the police commissioner. Dick climbed down into Bruce's waiting arms and hid his head against Bruce's shoulder starting to cry again. He could feel from the vibrations in Bruce's chest that he was probably being yelled at or fussed at worriedly but Bruce gave up shortly just rubbing his back, trying to sooth him and carrying him through the woods.

"Daddy this has not been a very good day at all," sobbed Dick into Bruce's shoulder. "I don't know where Grandpa Alfred put the mop. I don't want anymore nightmares and I shouldn't have come alone and I don't know where I put Grandpa Jim's truck. I want Bear."

Bruce answered him, Dick could feel the vibrations of his deep voice from where he was held in his Daddy's arms but he had no idea what he'd said. That would have required lifting his head from where he was hiding pressed against Bruce's shoulder. Hiding against Bruce felt more important then lipreading at the moment.

Dick rode back to the Manor in the backseat of a cruiser sandwiched between Bruce Wayne and Jim Gordon his dad and his grandpa. Dick looked blearily at the time. It was after one. He'd been gone for over eight hours.

"Sorry for worrying you. I didn't mean for this to happen," Damian/Dick whispered a flustered gesture encompassing the police canine unit, the cruisers, Bruce and Jim.

Bruce gently turned Damian's head so the child was making eye contact with him. "What happened? Why are you out here in pj's, with your truck, all alone?"

Dick silently mouthed the answer with tears in his eyes because the answer didn't belong to anyone but Bruce.

"Because I'm not thirteen anymore but they really are dead and I can't pretend and I'm not always going to make good choices."

Dick looked up to Papa Jim in time to see him say, "I hope they can fix his hearing soon. It was terrifying not even being able to call for him and hope he'd hear and answer." Dick looked to Bruce to see his response.

"Doctor Tompkins wants to give it another three or four months before jumping to surgical options. The decongestants don't seem to be helping though and his balance is still wonky." Bruce looked exhausted like he'd just crashed after some crazy adrenaline cocktail.

Mommy Babs, Tim and Alfred were waiting at the mansion. Bruce wasn't ready to put him down but Damian saw everyone asking worried questions. "What happened?" seemed to be the clearest most often repeated question.

"He just went for a walk. Down through the St. Augustus Cemetery then up the rail trail. The canine unit found him on one of the benches fast asleep. He liked the police dog well enough but the police officer scared him so he ran. He didn't get far. Treed himself." Bruce explained. Bruce wanted better answers but Damian had been very quiet and his little boy's silently mouthed explanation was enough to know that the full answer contained identity secrets. Barbara, Tim and Alfred knew what was at the St. Augustus Cemetery.

"How did you get out of the house?" asked Bruce.

"The milk door. I was just going to get my truck then come back inside but the door's spring loaded and I got locked out. I didn't want to wake everyone up early so I was just playing outside waiting and then one thing led to another."

...^ŏ^...

Jason read the police report. He had his computer set up to alert him when anything concerning Bruce Wayne came through. Jason checked the media but somehow the incident had been kept off the media radar. It concerned him that Robin had been back less then a week and already the police had been involved. He wondered how Richard or Dick felt about the new name Damian.

Jason checked his revolver and grabbed packet of C4. He was busy with one of the gang lords involved in human trafficking at the moment but he kept scanning through the police report in curiosity. Damian, hearing impaired, four years old, (I thought he was five puzzled Jason) snuck out of the house, black hair, blue eyes, 33 lbs, 40 inches (crude he's like three year old tiny maybe he is four?) broken arm result of a fall out of a tree? (that has to be crap) Canine unit employed.

Jason smirked. Apparently it had been the first bust or rescue, for a new dog on the canine unit, a German Sheppard called Ace. A puppy to rescue a baby bird thought Jason chuckling.

What was this crap? Mother Barbara Gordon? That would make the Commissioner his grandfather? What was Bruce up to? Was Gotham really going to believe this nonsense? Bruce had been sitting on any press release regarding Damian Wayne his new son. How did dear old dad plan on swinging this?

Jason's computer beeped again with a media release from everybody's favourite Metropolis reporter all around good guy Clark Kent. Okay there's what I've been waiting for, thought Jason.

Bruce Wayne announcement, ... Jason scanned quickly through: Damian Wayne, four years old, biological son of Bruce Wayne, frozen eggs of deceased ward's mother Mary Grayson, surrogate mother Barbara Gordan daughter of Gotham Police Commissioner James Gordon aka Jim Gordon...

Oooh there's a picture. Son of a Joker fart! That is the cutest little baby bird on the entire freaking planet. That kid is too cute to be real! Jason had no problem picturing him in pixie boots and a sunshine yellow cape with that mile wide grin and mischievous eyes. Tim was in the background looking fondly amused, Bruce... holy Two Face's tears... That was an honest to goodness real smile on his face.

Jason expanded the picture on his computer staring at Bruce dumbfounded. That wasn't Brucie, that wasn't a grimace, it wasn't vapid or empty, it was a happy, relaxed smile. He was letting that photo out on the front page of a paper? Did I ever really know the man wondered Jason. Bruce didn't do relaxed. He believed happy belonged to the ignorant.

 **My rugrats were arguing over how much trouble Damian/Dick would have got in over his whole little adventure. How do you think Daddy Bruce would handle things?**

 **Naughty little monkey...**


	2. Hello Everyone

Bruce was late for a major share holders meeting but he dropped Tim off at school. Tim had a history test he was late for. Bruce got to work. There was no way to discretely sneak into a meeting when you were an hour and a half late and you owned the company. The entire meeting stopped. One of the share holders had the gall to ask if his late arrival had to do with the press release regarding a secret son.

"Let's just continue. If I could have the summary notes Sheryl," Bruce grunted and sat down as Lucius smirked at him.

Tim was convinced his history teacher hated him. Despite Bruce's tendency to treat speed limits as suggestions rather than laws, Tim was still five minutes late for class and now he had detention plus ten minutes less to finish the test by the time Mr. Grumand finished chewing his ear off. Ten minutes out of a forty minute period was enough of a loss that Tim did not finish. His test score was going to be terrible.

Because he had also missed a science lab he'd have to make that up too. He texted Alfred to let him know he'd be very, very late and explained why.

"Very good sir. I'll send in the cavalry," Alfred texted back.

This response confused Tim but he was enlightened later in the day. Damian peeked into the detention hall then went to Mrs. Rouse who was running detention. She looked at him curious. He had a determined and intense expression on his face. In a too loud voice he explained earnestly, "It was my fault Tim was tardy so Tim will do his make-up lab and I will take the detention." His tiny hand reached up and sneaked the wipe board marker off her desk. Then, he cringed and spun round to the wipe board. Very slowly and messily he began printing.

 _ **I will not sneek out of the howse and go traipsing around the woods at five in the blooming morning, all by myself because for goodness sake a 4 year old all on his own out there, anything could happen. I will not worry my family, making them hunt high and low and leaving them no recorse but to call the constabulary involving Grandpa Jim, my mother and the K-9 unit.**_

"I don't have to write this a hundred more times do I?" Damian looked over to Alfred who stood by the door, a prim, proper and stern expression was fixed on his face.

"Master Damian, sneak, house and recourse are spelled incorrectly. Please spell out canine properly."

Tim still stood stupidly staring at Damian.

"Attend to your lab work Master Timothy." Alfred nodded to Mrs. Rouse who looked to be trying not to giggle.

"You didn't really have him write it out a hundred times did you Alfred?" asked Tim.

"Master Damian is a strong believer in the poetic drama of exaggeration."

Damian had managed to write out the paragraph three more times before Tim finished his lab work. Damian had also drawn a picture of a puppy dog. Mrs. Rouse had asked him about what had happened and he was illustrating. Tim still had to write up the conclusions and do some graphing but he could do that in the car.

Rather than drive home, they next proceeded to the police station. Alfred and Damian took some bakery style boxes out of the trunk. Tim got the door. Damian mournfully explained to Commissioner Gordon. "Papa Alfred and I made donuts for everyone to apologize. All afternoon baking donuts and I wasn't allowed to taste one!"

With a defiant little huff Damian announced, "Real donuts would have had sprinkles," while pouting at Alfred.

Jim Gordon smoothed out his moustache to hide a smile.

As Red Robin and Batman headed out for patrol that night, Red asked Batman if Agent A hadn't been a little harsh.

Batman's response caught Red off guard. "That was not discipline. That was the master manipulator keeping Robin distracted from grief. Robin loves baking. He got to rescue his big brother from detention. He's needs to do writing drills daily anyway and he felt he deserved punishment."

"Um..." Tim knew Bruce didn't pay Alfred enough but the elderly butler was still consistently able to impress him in new ways. "Odd writing drill?"

"Mnemonic exercise and writing drill. Agent A lectured him then asked him to duplicate the lecture."

"If that wasn't discipline are you going to discipline him?" asked Red. Damian had been tucked into bed late, just before they went to get ready for patrol. Alfred had filled a spill proof cup with juice and left it on a low shelf in the fridge. Damie's truck was in his room. Bear was in bed with him along with a tattered stuffed elephant from his first childhood.

"The security system is going to see significant updates. Agent A and Doctor L have advised against a sub-dermal tracker due to his age, rate of growth and the likelihood of it causing scar tissue. I embedded a tracker into his cast when we got back."

Tim wondered if that was a no, or if that was an I'm Batman I'll do as I please; I'm not answerable to you.

The Batmobile was monitoring a bug. Sound level indicator bars that had been low, picked up a little. Batman turned on the audio.

"You bugged his room!?"

"Another parent would have a baby monitor in there. I gave him the bug. He put it in Bear's utility belt."

"Bad dreams. I'm going to the library to read for a little while." A bed creaked and whisper soft footsteps padded. A door opened. "Thor sometimes asked why I would whimper in my sleep and if I had bad dreams. After I talked to Steve, Thor didn't ask any more." Damian's voice softly prattled on for a while before turning to mumblings and finally soft breathing. Batman turned the audio back off and glanced over at Red Robin.

^ŏ^

Jason looked in his fridge. His choices for dinner were ketchup, hot sauce or expired salad dressing. He looked in his cupboard; peanut butter, ammo and the grocery note pad. Jason looked at the note pad.

 _ **Anything but cocktail onions and ketchup!**_

 _ **\- Ivy spore for brains**_

He must have been drunk when he left himself that note for himself. He took out a spoon, the jar of peanut butter and a bottle of whisky which he'd nipped off of the Penguin's crowd.

"Vigilantism doesn't pay enough," Jason muttered. When he went after druggies he'd pocket enough of the cash flow to stay flush. This job with the human trafficking, the cash wasn't liquid enough to get at. It was hidden in bank transactions. Banking and hacking, they had never really been Jason's strong point.

Jason had uncovered the front end of the operation but the last group taken had been young street kids ranging in age from 9 to 15. The nine year old had made eye contact with him and Jason couldn't do it. He couldn't let them get pulled further in even if it meant failing to bust up the rest of the operation. So the front liners got the smack down, the kids went free and Red Hood now had a lot more work to do to get to the source of the problem.

In truth, the nine year old with a thick dark braid, caramel skin and soft brown doe eyes had stared at the glossy reflection of Red Hood's helmet. That's all. Jason didn't like it when people went after kids. He really, really didn't like it.

Jason looked over at his computer. The webcam had activated. A screen opened up and a cartoon Robin started dancing across his labtop.

 _ **Hi Jason. Found you! Peek-a-boo. I see you. Have a happy day!**_

Jason slammed the computer shut and unplugged his labtop. What the heck?

He took the lab top, put it on the back of his bike. He'd not been in costume when the labtop went off but there was stuff on his labtop that he didn't want getting out. It wasn't backed up properly or apparently firewalled properly. He couldn't afford to loose all the data. A string of explicitives escaped him. Maybe if he turned it on and quickly backed up everything while located somewhere without WIFI?

Sitting in the middle of a park, sometime after midnight, Jason turned his computer on. A whole tonne of new files were on it, each marked with a little cartoon Robin.

It was the bank files he needed showing the cash flow, to help break open the case. A note pad file was open on his desktop.

 _ **Hey big brother. Please don't kill anyone on this job. Batman's files go on and on and on about it. Now that I've helped, I'd feel responsible. I already have enough trouble sleeping. Don't tell Daddy I helped either or I'll be in soooo much trouble, I'll forget desert is a kind of food. Have a happy day!**_

Jason scrambled away from his computer just a little terrified. HOW?! It's not possible. How?

Batman had tried to teach Jason to hack but he was terrible at it. He went closer to the computer again.

Robin, assuming this was the real Robin, the first Robin not number three; he hadn't left an email address. Jason typed at the end of the note.

 _ **Hey Baby Bird, it's dessert, not desert unless you want to eat dirt.**_

He backed up his files then took the computer to a coffee shop with a net connection and waited. Two cups of coffee and a donut later...

 _ **Agent A wanna be.**_

That was not Tim.

Nothing further came over his computer. It was however getting pretty late and the Baby Bird was probably asleep. Jason didn't know what to think but he was so seriously wigged out that after reviewing the files he'd been sent, he kept it to simple fists verses street drugs, gangs and muggings for the rest of the night.

^ŏ^

Dick/Damian ended up in Bruce's bed that night. Bruce just silently ran his finger's through Damien's hair until his boy was sleeping soundly. He understood. Robin had put the mission first until he was safely back home, doing his best to ignore all of the hard stuff until he was safe and off duty but now reality was inescapable.

"It is okay Chum, to be glad to see Alfred and me at the same time as missing your parents. I'm glad you love them and I am sure they are glad you have someone who loves you." That L word wasn't as hard to say when you'd almost lost the chance to ever, ever say it.

Somebody still woke before Bruce was done sleeping but he slipped out and went to bother Tim for a while. Bruce went back to sleep.

Dick/Damian grinned with an arm load of socks stuffed in his shirt. Tim slept with his door open. SOCK ATTACK! Rapid fire, Tim got beaned with tiny sock balls. GAH! Tim fell out of bed and looked around blearily. Damian was grinning at him from the doorway. Damian waved hello with a mischievious grin, then turned and ran!

Rules or no rules Dick slid down the banister hopping off the end and running towards the front door. He slipped on his outdoor shoes and his coat and sat criss cross on the floor and waited.

Tim came chasing down stopping abruptly with a half annoyed/half amused look on his face.

"Rascal."

"Come outside and play with me."

Tim had never had a little brother before. He gave Damian an appraising look before slipping on his own shoes and coat and keying in the rather lengthy exit code. The sun was shining which was rare in Gotham. They skipped stones down at the pond when Tim explained that no mud sculptures with a plaster cast were a no go. Damian got some rope out from the garden shed and tied a stick to it trying to throw the stick over a high tree branch. Tim took over because his throwing arm was a little stronger. Soon, Tim was pushing Damian who was riding the primative rope and stick swing. Damian talked ceaselessly.

He asked Tim about his parents before Bruce and how he'd become Robin and his favorite color and his best friend and his ... Tim had never in his life talked so much and so long about himself. It had been a long time since he'd smiled so freely

He learned that the new name made Dick/Damian uncomfortable and agreed to just call him D for short as long as it was just the two of them.

"Do you want a turn on the swing Timmy?"

Tim shook his head no, then turned back to the manner. Alfred was calling them for breakfast. Bruce stood on the front porch watching them with a peaceful look about him.

Tim nodded to get D's attention and told him they were being summoned for breakfast.


	3. Oh Brother!

Peace and routine lasted for a little while. It was Wednesday. Hump day.

Bruce came home to:

"Boys! No sliding on the banister. Boys! No running in the house!" Alfred called authoritatively. Alfred looked over at Bruce seeming a little flustered, his hands were covered in the meatball mush. He'd been preparing for dinner.

The thundering footsteps had headed toward the den.

"You spore! Do you know how long it took me to finish that?! Give it back," roared Tim.

"You can't send this to school! I keep telling you! It's not allowed. It's not safe! Stop chasing me!" Damian had some serious volume going.

There was a horrendous crash. Tim screamed, "My homework!"

Bruce tossed his briefcase down and toed off his shoes and hurried to see what was going on.

"You stupid little shrimp. I just wanted my homework," Tim was climbing off of Damian who looked ruffled but not injured. "Seriously? You torched it! Can you not stay out of trouble, mischief, my room, my homework, or freaking anything! I haven't gotten a good night's sleep in months thanks to you. It's all about you isn't it? The world, Bruce, Alfred, everything. Don't you or anyone ever think of anybody else?"

"I don't, I um.." Damian started hiccupping he was trying so hard to surpress emotions. He was so completely focused on Tim he hadn't noticed Bruce come in.

Bruce flicked the lights, "Boys. Tim. My office now. Damian. Sit right there on that couch don't move. I want to talk to you next." Bruce watched for a moment to be sure Damian wasn't actually hurt before heading purposefully down the hall.

Tim sat stiffly in the chair in Bruce's office.

Bruce closed the door then sat down. "Talk," he ordered firmly.

"He stole my homework and torched it. He ripped it up and put it in the fire place."

"So you tackled a four year old? Timothy the things you said to him. Honestly I think you were right about needing sleep. No patrol. Bed tonight and for the rest of the week."

"He's five and he started it."

"Two weeks. Four years old," Bruce clipped out in a very Batman tone.

Tim sat there for a bit before huffing. Okay, four verses five was an identity secret, talking back, 'he started it' was a grade schooler arguement; Tim could admit to himself he had walked into the second week of grounding.

"I wasn't trying to tackle him. I was just trying to get my homework." Tim spoke in a more reserved tone.

"I'll talk to him about that in a bit. I'm talking to you right now. You're still a part of this family Tim. Him here doesn't change that."

"Doesn't it?" asked Tim wearily.

"Well, I suppose now you also have an annoying little brother who helps Alfred make peanut butter cookies for you even though he thinks they're an abomination against cookies. Yes, he's been waking you up early in the morning to play with him. He insists on hugs everytime you leave or enter the house and I gather he won't leave you alone while you're trying to do your homework."

"He doesn't like peanut butter cookies?" interrupted Tim incredulous.

"Go to your room and redo the homework."

"I can't. It was a series of worksheet questions from school," protested Tim.

"Call a friend and get a copy of the questions. You're smart enough to solve something simple like that on your own when you've had enough sleep. GO."

Tim wandered off up to his room feeling wretched and exhausted.

Bruce walked back to the den. Damian was sitting on the couch, sort of like he'd been asked to. He was sitting upside down pouting furiously. He'd pushed every pillow and couch cushion onto the floor and shoved the coffee table as far away as he could reach without leaving the couch. He was still hiccupping. Every hiccup he'd hold his breath to try and swallow down the hiccup before gasping with a shuddering breath. Bruce walked in front of him and knelt down. Damian looked at him and Bruce had him sit up properly.

"That's not the way to calm down. You can't hold your breath. Breath long and slow. Follow me." Bruce modelled long slow calming breaths. When Damian had stopped hiccupping, he spoke, "Alright, fix the couch cushions and the coffee table and then it's your turn in my office."

"Why did you destroy Tim's homework?" asked Bruce sitting back at his desk.

"He was writing about volcanos and lava. Of course he can't do that. I tried to tell him but he wouldn't listen!" explained Damian fiercely.

Okay. I'm missing something here, thought Bruce. "Why can't he write about volcanos?"

"At school? He was going to take that to school?! If everybody knew about lava and volcanos and eruptions there would be mass panic!"

Huh? thought Bruce.

"Some of the biggest cities in the world are located right where the continental plates meet and some of those things that look like mountains like Mount Fuji in Tokyo are secretly huge volcanos. I remember when Red Tornado and, and Yellowstone and Dr. Morrow and it could have wiped out half of North America and the weather disruptions.." Damian looked intensly concerned.

"Stop!" spoke Bruce finally cluing in. "Just stop Dick. You're confused. Volcanos aren't a bat secret. What happened at yellowstone is but not the rest of it. Everyone knows about volcanos. Tokyo has a whole bunch of scientists, seismotologists that pay close attention to Mount Fuji to make sure it won't erupt. Tectonic plate movements are monitored so in places like California they'll have advance warning of eathquakes. Hawaii gets thousands of tourists daily that like to come watch the lava flows. Volcanos and lava all that stuff is on nature shows on TV all the time."

"Saysmot.. uh, Tech on it? Umm.. I don't understand. Talk slower please with smaller words. I can't lip read that fast," Dick pleaded looking confused.

Bruce sighed and then looked over to an extremely out of date set of encyclopedias that had been in the office since the office belonged to his father. He went to the set and took out the V encyclopedia.

"Do you know what an encyclopedia is?" Bruce asked.

Dick shook his head.

"An encyclopedia set is a little library of common knowledge. If it's written here, everyone has known about it for a long, long time. These were published," Bruce checked the date on the inside. "These were published thirty years ago. Look up volcanos."

Dick turned to the index and then flipped to page 78. He read silently for a little while before closing the book. He looked up embarrased, "Errr... oops?"

Bruce chuckled a bit and ruffled Damian's hair. "Next time if you're not sure if something's a secret or not check with Alfred or me first. Okay chum?"

Damian nodded. "I should appleyes. Tim was really mad."

"Apologize not appleyes."

Damian looked thoroughly confused again. "Apollo guys?"

"I'll come with you while you say SORRY," spoke Bruce enounciating carefully. "Don't take anything Tim said to heart. He's exhausted. You remember tired grumpy hero protocol right?"

Damian nodded, sitting quiet but fidgety for a while before asking, "Am I not allowed to play with him in the morning any more?"

The sad puppy dog eyes were out in full force. Bruce steeled himself.

"Everybody around here wakes up soooo late and when the suns up, that's it I'm done. No power ever will make me go back to sleep. It's quiet here a lot."

"We'll figure something out," answered Bruce.

Damian knocked on Tim's door. Tim begrudgingly opened it. "Sorry..." spoke Damian looking at Tim's shoes then running away mortified.

"DAMIAN!" called Bruce. "... never mind." Bruce told the empty hall.

Tim gave Bruce that exasperated, 'would you look what I have to deal with' look that teenagers do so well.

"In his mind he had a very good reason for destroying your homework," protested Bruce.

"Really," deadpanned Tim.

"You know how most of the world remains blissfully unaware of alien invansions, mind controlled Justice Leaguers and atomic bombs in the sewer?"

Tim raised an incredulous eyebrow.

"Volcanos, lava, earthquakes are pretty scary stuff. He went on missions with the team dealing with them. He has a whole bunch of jumbled up knowledge that he's probably not really old enough to deal with. He was trying to protect what he thought were secrets."

Tim rolled his eyes. "That's stupid," he muttered.

Not long later, Damian knocked at the door again. He had a print out he held out for Tim. Still looking at the floor he said softly, "I checked all the security footage. These are the best images I could get. You still can't make out questions seven or eight but you can re-copy the rest."

Tim took the copy and Damian fled.

Damian's upset was noticable during dinner. He was quiet and he ate maybe one meatball and a slice of cucumber. Bruce frowned and looked at Alfred then put in a quite call.

Tim was vaguely horrified when Batman got out a tiny little Robin suit and dressed Damian in it, cast and all. The tiny little utility belt had four pockets with who knows what in them. Batman fitted a black child seat into the Batmobile and helped strap Robin in.

"He's not," sputtered Tim. "He wouldn't!" Tim looked at Alfred. "I'm grounded but but he's four, deaf and has a broken arm and he's going out?"

Alfred looked pretty calm.

Tim was still sputtering when the Batmobile pealed out of the cave.

"Master Timothy, Robin is going to help Oracle tonight. You are to be in bed in an hour. Would you like to help me in the kitchen?" asked Alfred dryly.

Tim blinked. Oracle? He was going to help with research? Tim looked over at Alfred. Help in the kitchen, he wondered. Alfred never ...

"Okay, okay I get it. What kind of cookies does Robin like?"

"I thought we could make sugar cookies shaped like dinosaurs. His favorite cookies are chocolate chip however I try to avoid chocolate when he is already having trouble sleeping," answered Alfred.

"The Robin suit he was wearing, was it fully kitted out?" asked Tim curious. Batman and Alfred were just getting Damian out of his hair for the night. The cookie baking was a not so subtle dig to remind him to try to be nicer. Tim rubbed his tired eyes.

"The mask has simple protective lenses. The vest is bullet proof with bio metric readouts, trackers and a distress signal built in. The pants are tight knit Kevlar and therefor slightly fire and cut resistant. The footwear, cape and single glove are all decorative but basically functional and the belt has a single folding baterang, a few smoke pellets, a small first aid kit, the web shooter Spiderman gave him and snack pack of apple slices. Batman did not think it appropriate to outfit him with a grapple gun at this time."

It was just real enough not to be a Halloween costume but not really designed for street use. Tim fell to musing. He didn't really like the person he'd been tonight. He didn't need Alfred's reminders to go to bed early. He was exhausted and he had green dye from the dinosaur cookies staining his fingers. He hoped getting out of the house wearing the Robin suit cheered the little guy up.

In the morning Tim woke, looked at the clock, panicked, gathered his papers for school and dashed out the door with a piece of toast in his mouth and Alfred calling something to him. The geography work got handed in fine and his first class went well. The math teacher gave him an odd look when he handed in his math assignment. Tim looked at the clock in math class as lunch time approached and groaned. He'd forgotten his lunch and his wallet at home.

"Mr. Drake though your math assignment is top notch and I appreciate that you've done several extra questions, I really would rather you completed your work in pencil rather than crayon and I have never seen such terrible hand writing. Every 4 was written backwards and it was difficult to follow your work when none of the writing proceded in any kind of a straight line."

Tim's eyes went wide and he started frantically rumaging around in his backpack until he pulled out another set of papers. "Sorry, sir. That's my little brother's. Here, here's mine. He likes to help me with my homework, whether I want it or not. We kind of had a blow up about it yesterday and things got a little mixed up."

"Crayon?" asked the teacher.

"He's four," muttered Tim embarrased. "Math is more fun in rainbows."

"So he copies your work?"

"No he does his own work then checks mine over for mistakes because he gets ridiculously excited about math. The rest of the subjects he just asks a million questions about, until it takes me an extra hour to get my homework done. Oh and he sings preschool songs in Spanish off-key whenever I'm trying to do my Spanish work. If I have to listen to, 'La Rana Cantando Debajo Del Agua' one more time I'll scream."

The math teacher raised his eyebrows a little, put the papers down on the desk, drew a large happy face on it using Sarah Graham's pink sparkle marker and handed it back. "Thank you for the use of your marker Miss Graham."

Sarah Graham gave Tim a mocking little wave and twirled her hair.

Tim shrunk down in his seat. He was glad to escape to the mountain at the end of the day. He was looking forward to sparing practice.

^ŏ^

The Bludhaven Bombastic House of Fun was a dance bar. The money from the human traffickers had led here. Black jeans, a concert tee and sunglasses at night were enough of a get up to get past the bouncer. Jason wove his way across the dance floor through the pounding music. It was black lit, had fluorscent paint splatters glowing everywhere and a huge stereo and light show setup. He sat down with a drink where he could see the administrative door and the bar and two familiar red heads sat down next to him all friendly like.

"Roy, Harper, what brings you to here?" asked Jason with gritted teeth.

"No I'm Roy, he's Harper," corrected Arsenal.

"You see, a little birdie was all excited to learn that we're, wait for it?" grinned Red Arrow.

The pair put their arms around him and got right in close to his face before cheering.

"TWINSIES!" they both roared with laughter.

"Oh joy!" snarked Jason.

"We're the most bad-" Arsenal started.

"Now Roy don't dare use such inappropriate language. Were you going to refer to your posterior?" scolded Red Arrow chortling.

"We're rough around the edges and our birdie friend knows it so he trusted you to us," finished Arsenal.

"He said he asked you to make temporary style change on his behalf so rather than disadvantage you he sent backup," explained Red Arrow.

"He asked me not to kill anyone because he helped me with some research I needed and he didn't want to feel responsible," whispered Jason. "He knows the whole clone thing was kind of a not so good, messy, ugly Joker fart right?"

The red heads shrugged.

"I kind of like having a, forever got a bro in my corner positive swing put on it," answered Arsenal.

"I'm done with the pity parties, whether they were thrown by me or someone else," added Red Arrow.

"So you're Roy and you're Harper," confirmed Jason pointing to Arsenal then Red Arrow.

They nodded.

With a resigned amused look on his face Jason raised a glass, "To the Baby Bird's conniving plans. May the Bat be blind!"

"Here, here!" toasted the twin red heads.

^ŏ^

"Leslie I battle, Alfred battles to get him to sleep at night but he's always up at dawn and then he insists on passing out in the middle of the day which only makes things worse." Bruce complained over his coffee.

"You've got quite a problem there," Leslie answered with a smile. "So many interesting things happen at night in Wayne Manor. He's young enough that there is a good chance he hasn't out grown the need for a nap yet and his body clock is programmed to wake at dawn from years of getting up to feed the circus animals."

Leslie's teasing tone softened. "The nightmares will ease eventually. Bruce I know you don't want to have anything to do with the League but the core Leaguers are his safe happy place, especially since the circus his other safe happy place, can't be a part of his life. They wouldn't understand a de-aged time travelling mini hero. You can't hide the League from him too."

"Maybe the young team but not..." Bruce didn't even bother to finish because Leslie was giving him that look. It had been a good thing for earth that Batman had stepped out of the League, Bruce thought in protest. Mind controlled Leaguers, the Reach,... Batman hadn't been involved in the League and had instead been much less visible. He supported the Team in Robin's memory but there were years there when he kept almost exclusively to Gotham. Who knows how things would have happened differently if Batman had still been a League man and had been taken down with the rest of the League on the Fourth of July; not to mention the resultant disaster with the Reach later.

In a world where Robin hadn't disappeared who knows how would things have played out differently, Bruce thought for a few moments. Bruce didn't want to trust Clark at all. Dick had been in Clark's care when all this started but he was also one of Dick, Damian's favorite people. Bruce didn't trust Clark but he did trust Mrs. Kent, Clark's mother. Bruce had also worked with Conner quite a bit.

Damian's morning had been spent at the hospital. He had the new waterproof short arm cast on. It was still green but it was much more comfortable. He'd spent the rest of the morning with hearing specialists. Bruce took the morning off work. Every appointment took **forever** because Bruce had asked a million questions of every doctor.

When they got home, Bruce told him next week he was starting at a preschool so he'd have friends to play with. It was run out of the Saint Agnes School for the Deaf. Bruce wanted him to learn sign language. Doctor Leslie had scheduled some kind of surgery for November and that was supposed to fix things but still, why did he have to wait so long for the surgery and why did he have to go to a special preschool instead of a regular one?

He was going to spend Saturday and Sunday at Superman's farm. That was kind of cool. Damian wasn't really sure this wasn't all punishment for burning Tim's homework. He wished Bruce would explain why he was doing things instead of just... well it felt like Bruce was trying to get rid of him. First there was the trip to visit Oracle, now Superman, and preschool too. All of it at once just seemed confusing. He asked Tim about it and apologized again for burning the homework.

Tim ruffled Damian's hair. "Bruce isn't trying to get rid of you. He's being overcompensating Bat-Dad. Trust me the last thing he wants to do is share you. He just thinks it's the self sacrificing responsible Dad thing to do. If it makes you feel any better, I'm locked out of the mountain so I can spend time just him and me because apparently I'm being neglected with a new little brother in the house. I have a nine o'clock bed time for the next two weeks because he's been working me too hard and I have to go to a ball game with him tomorrow. D, I hate baseball. It just isn't my thing and I'm over the whole homework thing so you can stop Apollo guys-ing for it. You don't have to let me sleep in every morning D. How's this, I'll leave my school tie on the door if I'm really bushed but otherwise you can get me up?"

"Okay. ...And Alfred worked with me to figure it out. I know it's apologize."

"D? After six am, not before." Tim warned then he teasingly pouted, "Oooh.. I liked Apollo guys. It was funny."

"A ball game sounds like fun."

"So does Conner's farm. Megan's planning to stop by too. They're looking forward to seeing you."

 **Regarding the missing years. So...**

 **Basically in Robin's absence, Batman filled the gap when it really mattered. Details have changed though, Superman didn't used to be on earth when the Flashes stopped the MFD,... As one of my readers once said consider this Earth 16 (b).**

 **Naughty Bruce, even you forget and call him Dick sometimes.**


	4. Hoe Down

In which Conner learns that babysitting Robin is not for the faint of heart.

Martha Kent had been baking for two days straight. She'd been baking ever since Conner had with a huge grin, told her Batman said Robin could come visit for the weekend. Clark was coming for the weekend. Conner's friend Megan was going to be dropping by. Honestly that infuriating Bat had no idea how big a deal this was to her boys. They were positively beaming. Clark had never forgiven himself for what had happened to young Robin and Conner had been so young back then to deal with the loss of a close friend who was practically family.

"Think of him as your cousin," Clark had told Conner with a goofy grin. "He always called me Uncle Clark."

Conner gave a small smile, "I'd like that."

"Is Megan staying the weekend too?" asked Jonathan. "Where are we going to put everyone?"

Conner and Megan had used to date back in the day, but they were just close friends now.

"I think we may have to resort to sleeping bags in the hay loft. Clark have you still got that old futon up there?" asked Jonathan.

"The mice were into it. I took it out to the dump years ago. I can borrow a cot or two from the JLA. They've got a whole warehouse of emergency relief equipment. No one will miss a few cots."

"Can I stay at your apartment in Metropolis tonight. Batman is dropping him off early in the morning by Zeta. I think the plan was five thirty so there wouldn't people around yet being nosy," Conner spoke. Though Superman would be home most of the weekend, Conner and the entire Kent family knew Batman would never trust Clark alone with Robin again. Conner had to be the front man. Robin would be pleased to see how well Clark and Conner got along now. It had taken a while for them to figure things out. Conner thought of Johnathan Kent as his father figure though most called Clark his dad. Clark was more like an older brother. This arrangement worked far better for everyone. Martha Kent was mom.

Conner had expected to be passed a sleeping child. He hadn't expected the tiny hyper ball of energy. Robin was in uniform. He had a backpack with a bear sticking out of it and a tin of cookies which he shoved at Batman before shouting "YEAH!" and launching himself with two one armed round offs and one hands-free flip right into a high speed leap-hug at Conner who just barely managed to catch him.

"Eh?"

"HI CONNER!" Robin looked him straight in the face wearing a huge grin.

Batman tapped Robin on the head. Robin turned to look at him. "Lower the volume," growled Batman gruffly. He also signed, "shh."

Robin flipped out of Conner's arms and into Batman's hugging him fiercely. Conner caught the cookie tin that was hastily tossed to him. A black cape wrapped gently around the child.

"A few things," Batman reminded Conner. "First, he's deaf, we talked about that. Don't expect him to come when you call and you'll have to be extra vigilant on his behalf. Don't assume he'll detect cars, large animals or other hazards. Second that bear is an antique from another dimension. It doesn't go outside. It doesn't come to dinner. If it's lost or damaged I'll extract of pound of flesh for every tear he cries. Lastly make no assumptions as to what he can and cannot do. Expect him to have the same skill set as any five year old might unless he has proven differently."

Conner nodded. Other than the bit about the teddy bear he'd had the rest explained to him in detail already. Conner watched Robin dancing hip hop in the bed of the truck and singing a vaguely familiar pop tune from another era while Batman secured a child seat into the Kent family truck.

"Won't the uniform draw attention?" Conner asked as he wondered a little about the concept of singing when you couldn't hear but he was more worried about Robin taking a tumble when he started tossing acrobatics in with his excited dance moves. His cape was yellow side out. Batman must have wanted him extra visible to make it easier to keep an eye on him.

"He's five," was Batman's only response, as if that answered everything. _(Robin is five, Damien is four)_

One last bat hug later, Conner and Robin were on the road. They stopped at a diner for breakfast because it still wasn't even six in the morning. Apparently he's five did answer everything because the waitress just sat them and in full zombie mode droned out. "Hi I'm Alice, I'll be your waitress today. Would you like anything to drink to start?" She plunked down crayons and a kids menu in front of Robin.

"CHOCOLATE CHIP PANCAKES! CONNER THEY HAVE CHOCOLATE CHIP PANCAKES! CAN I PLEASE HAVE CHOCOLATE CHIP PANCAKES?"

"Robin volume," reminded Conner imitating Batman's "shh."

There was a small jukebox in the corner Robin jumped up, pulled a coin out of his utility belt and selected a song. "HE ROCKS IN THE TREE TOPS..."

Conner covered his face in embarrassment. Robin was singing and dancing along completely out of sink with the music, beat and key. Robin tugged at him to dance with him.

"A cup of coffee and a milk, an order of chocolate chip pancakes and the scrambled eggs with bacon, home fries and rye bread please, Alice."

Robin raced out of the restaurant to check out the motorcycles when a large group of elderly bikers pulled up for the early morning breakfast.

"THAT IS AN AWESOME HARLEY! I LOVE YOUR PAINT WORK. DID YOU GET THAT JACKET CUSTOM MADE? I LOVE THE SCULL WITH WINGS! IT'S SUPER SCARY!" Robin enthused loudly, before racing around the bikers making vroom, vroom noises.

Conner yanked him out of the way of a car backing up. "Sorry," he called to the bikers. Conner looked back at the bikers. They didn't seem annoyed. He looked back... where was Robin?

Robin was on the roof of the restaurant petting a stray cat.

"GET DOWN!" insisted Conner.

No reaction.

"You're a nice kitty what are you doing up here, huh?" Oblivious, Robin continued petting the kitten. He wrapped it in his cape and flipped down onto the dumpster then over to a roll on the grass before releasing the kitten. "Bye bye kitty."

"I think I can guess how he busted up his arm," spoke an elderly biker as he pushed open the door to the restaurant. The flips had attracted some attention.

"ROBIN!" bellowed Conner seriously stressing out. Of course there was zero acknowledgement from the little boy department.

"Conner did you see the kitten?" asked Robin cheerfully his face falling a bit when he saw the expression on Conner's face. "Wasn't she cute?" he asked tentatively.

"He," corrected Conner panting as he tried to calm down. Okay, maybe Batman hadn't been ridiculously over the top with some of his warnings.

"THE PANCAKES ARE READY!" Robin raced back into the restaurant weaving between bikers.

"WASH YOUR HANDS?" yelled Conner. He blushed when the whole diner turned to stare at him. "...the dumpster..." Conner muttered embarrassed.

Conner clued in at last. He tapped Robin's hands away from the food. "Wash your hands" he spoke, signing, "wash your hands," at the same time. He knew about a dozen words in sign language but that was a fairly universal sign.

Robin settled down while eating. They talked in too soft voices about friends, adventures and anything else they could think of.

The biker stopped by the table. "Hey little man? What's your real name?"

Robin had looked up when he saw him approach. "Robin, of course. I also go by the Boy Wonder sometimes. What's you name."

The biker smirked, "Leon."

Robin turned to Conner, "Leon or Deon?" The biker had a beard. It made lip reading a little tricky.

Conner made an L with his fingers, "Leon. He's deaf," he explained to the biker.

"Well Boy Wonder, I have something for you," He passed Robin a patch with a skull and wings on it.

"Thank you, Mr. Leon. That's so cool!" Robin rummaged around in his belt pockets then pulled out an embroidered Robin "R" patch. "Here!"

"Why thank you little man."

"What all have you got in your belt?" asked Conner surprised.

"Well the bubble gum got confiscated but just stuff," answered Robin.

Clark was incapable of the subterfuge required to keep Robin's visit quiet and well a few friends who had longed to see their long lost Boy Wonder figured they'd just drop in. Megan Morse (Miss Martian), J'onn Jonzz(Martian Manhunter), Diana Prince (Wonder Woman), Kaldur (Aqualad), Dinah Lance (Black Canary), Oliver Queen (Green Arrow), Roy Harper and Harper Roy (Arsenal and Red Arrow). Apparently though no one would dare barge in on Batman, Superman was fair game. People were coming and going all day long.

The Martian, Robin reunion was something else. The Martians had both invested a lot of themselves into keeping Robin whole in the time reversal field. It took Megan an hour to stop crying happy tears and J'onn accidentally morphed into the preteen form of Robin, picked up the small boy and didn't put him down for a good half hour.

Little Robin kept a steady stream of reassurances, "I'm okay Uncle J'onn. I'm okay Megs. Everything's okay."

Harper and Roy asked Robin to see them to their cab when they went to leave. The cab driver was wearing dark glasses. He had an unusual streak of white hair though he looked may eighteen or nineteen. He smirked at Robin. Robin laughed delightedly.

"Just a sec!" spoke Robin before running off returning moments later with the remaining cookies from Alfred wrapped in a napkin. He offered them up with a smile.

"Thanks Baby Bird," whispered the cabbie.

"If you keep calling me a baby, I'm going to call you Big Bird and then what'll you do? You don't have a Snuffleupagus."

"I am Snuffleupagus, Birdie," answered the cabbie. "Keep me off the radar. Okay?" The cabbie ruffled Robin's hair because let's face it, it's irresistible.

Robin nodded.

Robin flew high, ate too much sugar and made a lot of noise and hugged anything that moved. He crashed at nine o'clock. Martha flopped down on the couch. "Whew! That was..." she smiled and laughed.

"Are we going to get in trouble over all the visitors?" asked Conner a little nervously.

Pa Kent laughed. "Clark will, but Batman is a clever fellow. Don't kid yourself into thinking anyone pulled one over on him."

"I'm a little surprised Wally and Artemis didn't show," admitted Conner.

"They've never been out to the Kent farm before," answered Ma Kent.

"Neither have Roy or Harper," replied Conner.

"Those two don't mind stepping on a few toes. I expect one of them pulled it out of Mr. Queen," answered Pa.

Clark and Conner paused because they could hear whimpering coming from Robin's room. Megan was still out in the barn supposedly tidying. Actually, she had just wanted to be alone for a while because the day had been emotionally exhausting and she wanted a little quiet.

"I'd hoped he was too exhausted for bad dreams," protested Clark.

"Overtired children dream more not less," answered Ma Kent who stood and went to check on the child. She brought him out balanced on one hip with his head against her shoulder. Robin was dressed in a fuzzy batman onesie complete with a soft cowl with mesh eyes to replace the mask he'd worn in the day. The outfit was missing a cape and the utility belt was printed on rather than being a true belt.

Pa went to warm up some milk while Ma sat in her favourite rocker quietly rocking and rubbing Robin's back. Robin said nothing. He just quietly hugged her.

Conner discretely asked about the bad dreams.

Clark answered generally enough that no identity secrets would be compromised. "His first family died right in front of him but, back when he was five they were still alive so the loss is new and all those memories of older Robin and the villains. Gotham's not a nice place."

"Why did Batman take Robin on the streets in the first place?" asked Conner.

Ma Kent chuckled, "Why'd you let him spend half the afternoon jumping from the hayloft into the hay stack, racing round back of the barn, climbing up the ladder and doing it all over again?"

"Oh come on. I've done that. I figured it was safer if I was watching then if I told him no or the next thing he'd be on top of the barn trying the jump or swinging off the pulley trying to hit the hay stack in a double flip from twenty feet away," protested Conner with his arms crossed and a stubborn expression on his face.

"Kaldur had to fish him out of the pond twice. Robin sinks like a stone. He hasn't got enough body fat to keep his head above water but apparently the ducks were irresistible. And, did you see when he was chasing the bull? The chickens were bad enough but playing Toro, Toro with our old grouch of a bull? You should have seen Ms. Prince take on the bull to get him out of the pen. Rather than looking even the slightest bit worried, Robin was cheering her on! The hayloft was a compromise."

"He was a tad overexcited today," commented Ma smiling at the grumpy expression Conner had fixed on his face. She was still rubbing Robin's back. Robin's sippy cup of milk toppled from his lax hand, onto the floor. His breathing had evened out. Ma Kent carried him back to bed and tucked him in.

Conner at Ma Kent's advice, withheld nothing when reporting back to Batman the next day. He told of all the visitors and hi-jinx. He had a crate with two chicken's in it and a tent shaped hen house folded flat laying in the flatbed of the truck. It was four in the afternoon.

"He was helpful and calm with the chores today. He seems to both love the animals and love to be useful. Pa thought maybe you could try having him take care of Peck Peck and Lucy for a while, to see if having something to do in the morning helps get his day started right. The big cage is called a chicken tractor. It just sits on the lawn then he'd move the cage along a little everyday so the hens have some fresh grass and bugs to supplement their feed. You'll get fresh eggs out of the deal. The cage is light enough for him to pull along. All he'd have to do is wash out the water dish, give them a scoop of feed, rake out where the cage was the day before and collect the eggs."

Batman nodded and took the chicken cage and chickens through the Zeta beam then came back for Robin who was fast asleep in the truck. After two days at the farm Robin was exhausted. He didn't even wake up when Batman unbuckled him and picked him up. Red Robin unhooked the car seat and took Robin's backpack. Both Bats checked to make sure Bear was there.

"How was your weekend?" Conner asked Red Robin.

"The first few hours were like gold but the squirt needs to come home. I've started working ahead in my homework for fun again."

"There's nothing wrong with that," growled Batman.

Conner got the impression that Red Robin rolled his eyes behind those glossy white lenses.

Back in a dank grey apartment, Roy and Jason had a city map spread out in front of them. Harper had gone home to spend the night with Liam. Nothing would go down tonight anyway. Sunday usually saw a lull in crime. Jason was a little outside of the age group that had been targeted but Roy's mechanical arm was too distinctive. Jason dyed his forelock electric blue and pulled on a shirt a little too big for him. He had contacts in so his eyes were brown.

"You need obnoxious worn out sneakers instead of the motorcycle boots. It'll take a year off your look," suggested Roy. "And hunch your shoulders. I think you should go for the black lipstick. The piercing looks wrong."

"Harper's back Wednesday. Until then, I wanna to be seen in the target areas but not during vulnerable hours. I can't stand the adhesive piercings anyway. They flick off then you look a complete wanna be. If I'm a loner it makes me a good target but folks have got to have seen me around."

"Are you registering at the local school?" asked Roy.

"It's not necessary. It's not consistent in the victim profiles. A lot have been completely street," answered Jason.

"Are you seriously going into this without the guns?" confirmed Roy incredulous.

"Well, I've got some tranquilizers and one gun setup for them but tranqs are too slow to depend on when things go south," answered Jason.

"Because the Baby Bird asked you to?" confirmed Roy.

"He just asked no deaths," answered Jason.

"So take the guns," encouraged Roy. "Look, the guy on the other end thinking you might shoot is often enough."

"Honestly I don't think my problem is even with the Baby Bird. I've still got that crazy Bat in my head sometimes. Birdie smiles at me, says hello and hands me cookies and I hear the old Bat's 'you're a hazard to everyone around you', growl and the old 'justice can't be angry Jason' lecture, which always seemed poisonously hypocritical to me."

"Rob used to tell me angry works if you're in charge of it."

Jason looked at Roy puzzled. "What?"

"Well, Batman certainly isn't Mr. Good Mood," answered Roy. "I ain't no ball of sunshine either."

Jason smirked. "I like that one. Angry works if you're in charge of it. I ...It doesn't feel good when it takes over."

Roy shrugged watching as Jason picked up his gun cleaning it, checking the sight.


	5. Daycare & Nightcare

Bruce stayed for the first half day of preschool which Damian liked.

One of the teachers showed them both around and asked Bruce stupid questions like if Damian was fully potty trained or if he still had accidents. Damian gave the teacher a rather fierce batglare over that one. Bruce flicked him on the nose for it. She asked if Damian could recognise his name in print yet. Damian started glaring again.

"Damian go play and let us talk. Off you go," ordered Bruce.

Damian stomped away.

"Does he know any sign language yet?" asked the teacher.

"He knows a few signs but he is excellent at lip reading and his speech is good. It had developed well before the hearing loss progressed to the point it is at now. He is scheduled for surgery in November but the damage is a little more than simple build up in his ears so I'd like him to have all the tools he might need just in case," Bruce spoke this part carefully making sure Damian couldn't see him.

"Will you be mainstreaming his schooling or registering him at Saint Agnes in September?"

"He'll be mainstreamed. He is extraordinarily gifted and will need a specially tailored education program which the primary division of Gotham Academy can provide. Every Thursday afternoon he'll be picked just after lunch. He'll be going through educational screening to identify his learning profile through Brahms Youth Pscyhological Services. They'll have an assessment survey for you to fill out on him when you get to know him a little better. Dr. Terry Graham has asked if he can come to observe him in the classroom setting but everyone wants him to settle in here first."

"We already have a relationship with BYPS and we've worked with Dr. Graham before. A lot of our student have special needs. Is there anything special he'll need from us to thrive here?"

"Focus on the ASL. If he starts acting up he's probably bored or needs to burn off energy. He is not normally this reserved. When he starts getting more comfortable you'll find him quite high energy."

"You mentioned gifted. How does that manifest."

Damian was wandering the class room looking unimpressed. Everyone was using sign language. Almost no one was speaking and those few who were, were not pronouncing words correctly so lip reading was nearly impossible. He stopped someone from beaning someone else with a block. He flipped through the books on the reading shelf. Most of the books were stiff indestructable board books. There was a bin of Tinker Toys. Since when had Tinker Toys been made of plastic instead of wood? Heaving a frustrated sigh he pulled out the Tinker Toy bin and started to build a carousel. He snagged the animal bin and a roll of scotch tape. He kept glancing back to make sure Bruce was still there.

Damian kept having to sign, "No thank you," when kids tried to take toys out of his hands or steal the scotch tape or the animals. The other teacher sat down next to him and put coloured tape on his fingers like she had, then showed him the signs for animal and tape. He tried to ask her a few questions but she was deaf just like the children and did not lip read. It was going to be a long day.

By the time Bruce was leaving, Damian had a fully functional carousel. The animals even sort of went up and down on their own though you had to push it to make it go around. Bruce had signing tape on his fingers too.

"Looks good," signed and spoke Bruce.

The teacher who'd been talking with Bruce looked at Damian's creation. Looking gobsmacked she signed to Bruce. "Gifted?!"

Bruce nodded but he was not really impressed. Damian was ignoring the other children. "You can do this at home. Play with your peers."

Damian gave Bruce a very expressive, you've got to be kidding me, eyeroll.

Bruce knelt and took Damian near. "I have to go now. I know this is hard. No one here speaks your language but you're good with languages. You will do fine. I want twenty new words by the end of the day. Can you do that?"

Damian pouting signed, "Animal, Tape, Break, Give, Stop, Share, Carousel, Circle, Time, Bathroom, Eat," then he couldn't think of anymore signs so his hands fell to his sides. Damian did not look happy.

When Bruce went to leave Damian called out, "I want Bear! Please can I at least have Bear?"

Bruce sat in the car outside for a moment or two collecting himself because honestly it wasn't easy to walk away and pretend he hadn't noticed the tears Damian was trying to hide.

When Bruce came with Tim to pick up Damian at the end of the day Damian said nothing at all. He grabbed Bear who was waiting for him in the back of the Jaguar and sat in his car seat kneading Bear's paw. Damian wouldn't talk to either of them. It seemed to help calm him down when Tim gave him a copy of his math homework to play with / work on. Damian did a few math questions before falling asleep in his carseat.

"Is he okay?" asked Tim.

"He will be. It may take a few days. Can you check his lunchbox and see if he ate anything?" answered Bruce worriedly.

"It looks like he played with it but didn't actually eat anything," answered Tim. The sandwich had been torn into tiny pieces. The celery had been peeled into shreds. The apple slices looked like faces had been cut into them with craft scissors and his thermos of milk felt full. Both cookies were untouched.

At dinner Damian politely listed and demonstrated 137 new signs but wouldn't eat a bite of dinner. He polished off his milk at least.

Tim couldn't stand it anymore. Tim understood stressed out. He was an expert in it. Apparently when his little brother was stressed he stopped eating and got all serious. When Tim was stressed he stopped sleeping and drank too much coffee. Neither behaviour was healthy. Tim grabbed D with a smile. "Come on D." Tim pull/pushed him towards the Batcave. "Get suited up." Tim looked up. He could see Bruce watching them from the top of the stairs. Bruce nodded for him to continue with whatever he was up to.

While Damian was getting ready Tim put his communicator in. "Batman do you copy?"

"I copy," answered Bruce who was still watching hidden in the shadows at the top of the stairs but he'd put his communicator in when he saw Tim get his out.

"Can you radio ahead to Canary and tell her we'll have a guest for tonight's training session."

"Approved," answered Bruce quietly. "There's a training belt for him in the cabinet next to the med bay. Have him demo the web slinger he brought back, run him through Katas and target practice with the batarangs. I don't want him sparring until his arm heals and I've had a chance to assess his skill set. He's been practicing with escrima when he's thinks I'm not watching. See if Canary can properly size him for a decent practice set."

The Zeta announcement turned the heads of everyone who was at the mountain.

"Recognized Robin B01, Red Robin B20"

"Robin, this is Lagoon Boy, Impulse, Bumblebee.." started Red only to be interrupted by a large galloping animal.

"Wolf!" called Robin happily.

Wolf pounced on Robin knocking the small boy to the floor and snuffling him all over.

"Wolf!" cried Red Robin alarmed. "CONNER!"

Wolf grabbed Robin by the scruff of his cape and raced off with him.

Impulse zipped after him only to result in Wolf parking himself over top of Robin and growling ferociously at the speedster. Tiny Robin was giggling madly from underneath the supersized wolf.

Conner who had come to see what all of the fuss was about crossed his arms and gave Wolf a scolding look. "Wolf give back the puppy. It's not yours."

Wolf barked at Conner obviously disagreeing with him. Wolf planted a heavy paw on Robin and glaring at Conner proceeded to thoroughly lick Robin who just couldn't stop giggling despite being rather wet now.

"That's Batman's puppy not yours," corrected Conner.

Wolf gave Robin one last lick then begrudgingly skulked away giving Conner woeful betrayed whines.

"I think he missed you," observed Conner with a chuckle.

Impulse chortling madly zipped off and came back with a towel for the pint sized vigilante. "Absolutely crash entrance. I thought dog breath was going to make supper of you for sure but you knew diffferent, didn'tcha half pint. I'll be taking on the mantle of Kid Flash soon. The costume's just being resized. I know the origional is your BFF."

"...and this is Wonder Girl. Beast Boy and Blue Beetle will here soon," finished Red Robin. "Beast Boy's green and Blue Beetle is well, he's blue, sort of. You'll figure it out."

Robin watched the sparing practice from up in the high rope course. Beast Boy when he got there, turned into an eagle and flew up to sit beside Robin between his matches.

"You aren't worried about falling?" asked Beast Boy.

"If you want me to understand you, you have to turn back into a human before you talk. My hearing is broken. I can read lips but definitely not beaks," answered Robin.

Beast Boy transformed back scrambling to settle himself more securely in the ropes. Robin his legs hooked securely grabbed him with his good hand and stablized him.

"That sucks man," spoke Beast Boy

"Absolutely not asterous," Robin agreed. He didn't know Beast Boy at all. That probably let him give himself permission to vent a little. "I miss music. I've been working on building a simple directional noise meter wired into my mask with indicator arrows. I was thinking colours to show sound levels. I'm totally grounded if everyone and anyone can sneak up on me. I know neither Batman nor Red Robin will help. They let me dress up and do computer stuff but well... you know."

"And you know how to do that?" asked Beast Boy. "Frankly, you look like Blues Clues would be more up your alley."

"I like Blues Clues but I also like electrical engineering," defended Robin. Robin laughed as Lagoon Boy got the smack down in a rather awkward spar.

Black Canary called something up.

"She wants you to demo a web slinger?" explained Beast Boy.

Robin climbed out of where he was wedged in between the ropes with a grin. "Want to help?" he asked Beast Boy. "We'll play tag. Give me a ten second head start, then try to catch me."

Beast Boy grinned.

The demo started off tame enough with Robin swinging away and Beast Boy transforming to escape web traps, then there were web sheilds, blunt web weapons, a web glider, acrobatics and a wild assortment of green animals.

"STOP! HALT! DESIST!" yelled Canary. Things were getting really rough really fast. Robin still had a broken arm not to mention he was five!

M'gan mentally broadcast, "Stop!" as well.

Robin came grinning. Beast Boy waddled up in the form of a penguin. Robin laughed delighted and waddled after Beast Boy before taking another look back at Canary. A vein was throbbing on her forehead. Robin stopped waddling but the mischievous grin stayed so he hid it behind his cape laughing eyes still twinkling towards Canary.

"You're poker face is a total fail," teased Beast Boy his toothy grin also undaunted.

"Look at the absolute mess you've made. There are webs everywhere! I know for a fact Batman said no acrobatics and swinging through the air like that one handed?!" Canary's face turned red she was freaking out so much.

Robin started giggling completely unrepentant.

A deep gravely voice from behind softly spoke, "The webs dissolve in about an hour. It's Robin's bed time." He nodded for Robin to come with him.

"I'm hungry," spoke Robin slipping his small hand into Batman's larger one. "Do you think I could have a sandwich before bed?"

Red Robin smiled.

Red Hood had an alert flashing on his computer. It was from software leftover from Robin version 1.0. It reported back zeta movements. Hood liked to know when Bats was in the same city so normally he just tracked Bruce's Zeta's. He'd awkwardly added a tag so he'd know Robin's movements too. What kind of idiot thing was going on with Bats? Why did the Baby Bird Zeta to the mountain?

Hood banged his head against the wall. The better question was, why did he care what Bats and the Baby Bird did. He just couldn't leave it alone. Someone was knocking at the door.

"UPS Delivery for J. Todd?"

Jason signed for the small package. It said do not open until April 27th. Jason opened it. Inside was a card with a cartoon motorcycle drawn on it with a grinning stick figure driving over a clown with x'ed out eyes. _"Happy death didn't stick day."_ There was a Harley Davidson motorcycle patch in it, a skull with wings. It was signed, _"Love Robin."_

Jason had no idea what to make of the card at first but he cracked open a beer while staring at it. Then stuck it to his fridge with scotch tape and sewed the Harley patch into the lining of his jacket using surgical stitching thread.

April 27th the anniversary of the day Jason had died was still a few days away.

As Jason finished getting suited up to go on patrol he took one last look inside his jacket and smirked.

Happy death didn't stick day was almost as bad as the twinsies but honestly Jason had never seen Roy and Harper happier. Maybe the Baby bird was onto something, grab that silver lining even if you had to squint at grey and call it silver.

"I'M NOT DEAD YET J'SLIME!" Jason yelled into the night standing on his bike as his motorcycle tore through the streets of Bludhaven. He popped a wheelie, "I'm a gonna have me an Ivy Kissing awesome Death Didn't Stick Day!"


	6. A Bandaid for Batman

**From Bruce's perspective it's Damien. From old hero's perspective it's Robin. Richard thinks of himself as Dick or sometimes when he's being sneaky Robin.**

 **The Other Character was in response to a request from the bosses. I was ordered to add him. He's modelled loosely after someone from another fandom. He'll stay in a minor role.**

Every day Damien tried to take Bear with him. Bruce said Bear couldn't go to school, that Bear would get ruined there. He would get lost or stolen or broken. You didn't take toys you loved to preschool.

Bruce wasn't sure why Damien started to hyperventilate when he told him that. It took Bruce an hour and a half to get Damien calmed down again. If he'd been an outside observer to his own conversation he would have growled at himself that he was an idiot that had just told his own son that he was banished to preschool where he was going to get ruined: lost, stolen or broken and that he was sending him because he didn't love him.

"Please just try to learn sign language at least," encouraged Bruce wearily. Bruce wasn't sure if Damien's issues with the preschool had to do with abandonment anxiety caused by the death of his parents and the interdimensional incident, actually confronting the possibility of staying deaf, the isolation of strange environment where he didn't speak the language or all of the above. He just knew it wasn't going well.

"I can come home when I can speak sign language?" pleaded Damien.

Bruce gently ran his fingers though Damien's hair and tucked his blankets around him more snugly. "It's past bedtime Damien. Go to sleep."

"You forgot to turn the stars on."

Bruce turned on the nightlight that sent stars slowly swirling across Damien's bedroom. Bruce, at his wits end, had researched soothing aids to help settle a hearing impaired child for bedtime. His poor little guy was barely sleeping.

Damien didn't do what Bruce wanted but he did what Bruce asked. He shut out all the potential friends and the teachers and started memorizing sign language with an obsessive focus.

The Brahm's centre was okay. Bear was allowed to come. Doctor Graham said so.

Week two Bruce walked in and almost kissed the psychologist.

"Hi Damien, who's this?"

"This is Cat. He plays violin too but he's actually good! He plays in the Gotham symphony and he plays piano too! Did you know he speaks five differnent languages including Rom!"

The little boy with a fluff ball of blond curls on his head, a tan complexion and cherub cheeks, self consciously started tugging on Damien's sleeve. "Dami, Dami, I only know four. I can only say a few words in Romani."

"I'm counting it anyway," insisted Damien dismissively.

"I told you, my uncle just sings me bed time songs and tells me old stories with little bits of Romani mixed in."

"Do you know any naughty words in Rom?" asked Damien with a mischievous monkey grin.

Cat blushed shyly which was an obvious yes in Damien's book but looked nervously at Damien's dad and shrugged self consciously neither confirming nor denying anything.

Damien giggled.

Bruce swatted him playfully. "Should have named you mischief."

"It's fun trying to lip read in different languages! Cat builds robots for fun! Hey Cat, how complicated can you make the programming?"

"S..S..Sorry, I don't know how to do that yet," Cat apologized. "That's why my robots aren't very good."

Bruce smiled. The little guy obviously had self confindence isssues despite almost certainly being highly gifted. He was here for the same assessment as Damien.

"No Cat! You don't understand. I'm rubbish at robots but awesome at programming! I could help you with your robots!" Damien explained excitedly.

Cat smiled shyly.

Cat backed up nervously when Damien did an excited flip. Cat, shy but intrigued tried a tentative awkward somersault flop.

Damien laughed happily and glomped Cat in an enthusiastic hug. Cat giggled and whispered shyly. "I'm sorry. I'm not good enough for what you did."

Damien face palmed. "Stop apologizing Cat!"

"Sorry."

"That's still apologizing!" pointed out Damien grinning playfully. "Don't be good enough. Just be yourself," Damien encouraged.

Dick wasn't sure why Bruce sat and started chatting with Cat's uncle, neither Bruce nor Cat's Uncle seemed in a hurry to leave. They just let them play for like an hour! They were even late for dinner. Dick had no idea what Bruce said to Alfred about it but Alfred actually smiled when they were late! Weird.

Jason hadn't heard anything from Robin for a while. It worried him. Neither Roy nor Harper knew anything about it. "Maybe you could sneak him a burner phone with text? Things can get dark real fast in that house."

Harper laughed but took the challenge. He stopped by Gotham Academy and flagged down Tim at lunch. He wasn't sure if this would work. The Bat family was so freaking suspicious. If he just stuffed the phone in a toy and gave it to Tim the phone would be found before it ever got to Robin. Tim was a scary detective and he noticed everything.

"Hey Tim, I've got this new tracker chip. I was hoping you could work your magic and find a way to detect it? I don't think it's still active but I've put it in lead just in case." Harper passed off the tech to Tim.

Of course, Harper got an angry call from Batman on his communicator later that evening because the tracker was live and there was no way lead would have shielded the signal.

"I am so sorry," Harper apologized. "Can you shield against it or detect it." Harper's computer showed where Tim and Bruce had gone. There had been a 15 min stop at a preschool. Harper smiled.

Harper sat at the bus stop just outside the fence of the preschool playground for Saint Agnes School for the Deaf. Robin saw him and conveniently kicked a ball over the fence so it landed right beside him. Harper picked it up and handed the ball and the phone to Rob then when the bus came he hopped on board.

"Hey Jay, you owe me a case of beer," Harper reported.

Rob looked at the phone which had a Snuffleupagus sticker on it. He crawled under the climber and opened it. He grinned and texted, "Hi Big Bird."

"Baby Bird, you ok? You've been quiet."

Jason texted back and forth to Robin for a good half hour. Jason was working with his hands so he was using voice to text. His computer showed video of the small bird looking down towards the camera in the phone as he typed. There were deep dark circles under the little guy's eyes but as he texted some of the tension eased out of his shoulders.

"Tuck the phone in your pocket Baby bird," encouraged Jason who could see sleep settling in. If there was anyone around to bet with Jason would have put money on the little guy falling asleep under the climber he was hidden under. "Idiot Bat," muttered Jason, "talk to him and really listen how hard is it." Unnoticed to Jason, his last muttered words texted through to Robin who read them and gave them a lot of thought.

"So how's Rob?" asked Harper later that night.

"I forgot to tell him we busted up the human trafficking ring."

Roy was there too. He was playing with Liam, Harper's baby girl, while they wrapped up details. He just started laughing.

"What gives dirt face?!" Jason demanded of Roy.

"You're excited to tell your five year old brother about the human trafficking ring you busted up. It's ridiculous."

"He's not my brother," protested Jason weakly.

Harper started snickering at which point Liam started giggling.

"Bruver, bruver," Liam clapped and giggled.

"Next thing you'll be saying the replacement's my brother," snarked Jason scowling.

"The replacement doesn't know you exist," answered Roy.

"The five year old has decided he's the eldest so he's going to take care of you," teased Harper.

"And beat up the bullies that pick on you," added Roy.

"And help you with your homework," added Harper.

"And never miss your death day, birthday or feezle day," added Roy.

"And share his cookies. Don't forget the cookies!" added Harper.

"Coookies," shreiked Liam cheerfully still clapping.

Jason huffed. He used to be a lone wolf. Now his apartement was all cluttered up with friends and a baby. He didn't even have a gun in reach, just a few knives. What was the world coming to?

Dick looked at the list of ASL words he knew. He'd been memorizing as fast as he could, 2510. According to the computer the average five year old had an expressive vocabulary of 2100 to 2200 words. 2510 words should count. He would try to actually understand the teacher and kids today and see how he did. ASL was mostly a language of substitution. He only had to memorise words.

Dick looked in his old piggy bank there was about ten dollars in small change. He grabbed it. Most of his savings had always been kept in the real bank and he didn't have access to any of his old bank accounts. Technically with him legally dead all his old money belonged to Bruce. Hmmm... He thought hard. There was an old emergency stash or two in the streets of Gotham hidden where even Batman didn't know just in case of emergency. Was this an emergency?

"Big Bird? Are you busy tomorrow from from 11 to 12?" he texted. Dick had been all through Jason's files on the bat computer. Even the triple encrypted ones. Jason was dangerous but Dick didn't think he was dangerous to him.

The preschool teachers had no idea what was going on when the next morning Damien actually started talking to them and to other children. His father said he didn't know ASL. He was nearly fluent.

As snack time approached Dick slipped out of the bathroom window. The teachers wouldn't do a head count till outdoor time in about 2 hours.

Jason was waiting across the street on his motorcycle in the shade of a tree. Robin nodded to him but other than that ignored him. He felt the phone vibrate and looked down.

"You're gonna be in deep with B, Baby Bird. You sure about this?"

"B needs this." Robin got on the city bus discretely, pretending to be with a mom and her baby. He sat at the back of the bus and watched Jason on his bike. "Awesome bike," he signed to Jason.

Jason saluted him.

Robin got off in a really rough part of Gotham and removed a maintenance panel off of an old air conditioner when no one was looking. He took out two hundred dollars and sealed the rest back up.

Jason kept his distance but he was watching.

"You can have the rest if you really need it some day. There should be 10K there," he texted Jason.

"It's your stash. B's world is crazy. You might need it. I won't touch it," typed Jay.

When Robin went to head into a convience store Jay signaled him. Jason crossed the street and approached.

"Let me. You're too short for this much cash to be safe Baby Bird. You want anything but the tickets?"

Robin shook his head no. "Thanks Jason!"

Jason staggered under the unexpected weight of a hug. It made his throat feel all tight and weird and his eyes sting.

"Short stuff, I'm glad you called," spoke Jay softly when the little guy was looking back up at him again. "Scare B all you want but stay safe okay."

"I am safe."

"With me... I got half a dozen warrants on my head," protested Jason.

"Yeah I know."

Jason made the convience store purchases then went back to tailing Bruce's little bird from a distance. He watched following a second bus to Wayne Enterprises. He pulled away and headed back toward Bludhaven when Robin was in the building.

Robin/Dick/Damien, knew exactly how young he looked. He tailed someone with dark hair into the building making it look as if he was along with a parent and the security guards didn't even look twice. He'd hacked the building last night remotely and programmed a code for himself so he entered the elevator and keyed in the code for the executive floor.

He got all the way to the top before security even challenged him.

"Excuse me young man but this area is off limits."

Mr. Greg Weirson's name tag was duly noted. "I'm here visiting Daddy."

"What is your Daddy's name?"

A moment of thought was given to recalling disbelief in response to who his guardian was. "...Daddy. We're going to the zoo today. I'm waiting for him."

"Where were you supposed to wait?"

Dick pointed towards a small sitting area outside of Bruce's office. He was so close. He didn't want to make a huge scene.

The guard took him by the hand and led him over. "Cheryl is anyone in with Mr. Wayne right now? This little guy..."

"DADDY!" called Dick excitedly.

"DAMIEN?!" Bruce froze on the spot trying to process what was going on.

"I did it. I memorized 2510 words. That exceeds the vocabulary of the average five year old so I'm done preschool and we're going to the zoo. I bought tickets." Dick signed reaching into his pocket with a big smile and pulling out the tickets.

"... Cheryl, hold my calls, appointments, meetings." Bruce got down on one knee. "Chum, you decided you were done with preschool so you just left? How did you get here?"

"I took the bus."

Bruce pulled Damien into his office and closed the door thanking Cheryl and Greg. "By yourself?"

Dick/Damien nodded doing his best to look ignorant although he knew full well what was going through Bruce's head.

Bruce pulled up the preschool's number on his phone, "If you are looking for Damien he just showed up at my office." He spoke waiting for the TTY phone to be read at the school

"Students must be signed out by a parent or guardian before leaving school property," a computer voice replied.

A frustrating five minute call revealed no one had yet noticed Damien missing. Bruce had every intention of going down there and chewing them out. It was really unsatisfying text messaging someone with harsh words.

"Daddy?" called Dick/Damien signing and speaking. "I like Uncle Clark, Conner, Tim, Papa Alfred and Papa Gordon and Mommy Babs but they aren't you. I thought you liked the zoo."

Bruce paused his rampage, though he was by no means done with this whole thing. "I like the zoo because you like the zoo Damien." Bruce replied in speech and sign although he signed Dick rather than Damien.

"There's a short sign for my name. Cat came up with it. He says I'm bouncy." Damien signed a bouncing letter D.

Bruce smiled and echoed back the sign.

"Please talk to me. Tell me stuff. My world is silent enough right now. Am I really going to be able to hear again?" asked Damien.

Manipulative little bugger,... Bruce pushed the button on his intercom. "Cheryl. Mark me out for the rest of the day." He let go the button. "Damien let's go to the zoo." A long while later Bruce answered that they really wouldn't know until after the surgery. J'onn had plans to try some micro repair up on the Watchtower.

Dick/Robin narrowed his eyes at Bruce suspiciously. He knew Bruce very well.

Bruce finally admitted that Leslie kept saying everything would definitely improve but that there might be some hearing loss.

"Some is not the same as deaf. Do you feel better now that I know sign language again?"

Bruce still frowned and Dick laughed. "You need more ice cream in your life."

Dick ran to the nearby vendor getting one vanilla cone with sprinkles and one pistachio cone. He offered Bruce "the blended alien brain" cone.

"It's just as well I had two ice cream cones in my hands just then I don't know how to sign blended or alien," admitted Dick.

"Where'd you get this money?" asked Bruce. Dick's expression was his 'I've been up to something naughty' tell. It made Bruce want to smile just to see it.

"One of the old emergency stashes," admitted Dick guiltily.

"We're at the zoo and I'm talking but you are in big trouble Mister," explained Bruce.

"I'll happily wash all your cars and scrub the basement with a toothbrush if you just start really talking to me again and spending time with me. You could have come with me to the farm you know."

Bruce scowled.

"If you burned those bridges build new ones. I'll help," encouraged Dick.

They talked and talked and talked...

Batman and Robin came to the next JLA meeting. Red Robin had added a speech to text display in Robin's mask.

"I'm so proud of you. You are an awesome Robin," Red Robin mouthed silently to Robin. "Go straighten those block heads out."

Robin acted as a translator.

"What are you doing here?" an astonished Superman sputtered.

"Superman said I'm so surprised and happy to see you."

"That's not what he said," growled Batman.

"Batman said I recognize the JLA is important and I'm here to help do my part."

"What do we need him for?" demanded Green Lantern.

"Green Lantern said that really makes me think. I wonder how our different skill sets can compliment each other?"

"What's a kid doing on the Watchtower," demanded someone Robin didn't recognize.

"Kicking your butt if you're not careful," answered Robin cheekily.

That first meeting was surreal but productive. The master detective knew things, he made connections and he was needed.

It exceeded Robin's attention span though. It exceeded Barry's attention span too. Only Batman noticed that in addition to the ghost image of Barry sitting watching the meeting attentively another Barry was zipping back and forth under the table playing checkers with Robin who occasionally giggled in response.


	7. Supervision

Bruce had promised a punishment. Damien knew better than to sneak out of school. Washing and detailing all the civilian cars seemed like a good start. Damien was four. He needed supervision so Bruce set up a lawn chair in the garage and worked on his lab top with his cell phone in his other hand.

 **Step 1: Vacuuming the interiors.**

"I ain't afraid of no gross! Gross Busters!"

"WAIT! I NEED THOSE RECIEPTS!"

"Hose head already slurped them up."

"Just wait while I take the vacuum apart."

"You're making a mess. I don't think this is going to get your cars cleaner."

"I really need those receipts."

"It's 7:11, SLURPEE TIME!" cheered Dick attacking the next car with the vacuum.

"Yes, it is still an unholy time of the morning," muttered Bruce.

"Bruce didn't your date last week have diamond earrings shaped like roses?"

"Why?"

"Umm, Hose head slurped one up I think."

"Damien, do you think maybe you could curb your vacuuming enthusiasm a bit and pay attention to what you are vacuuming."

"Hose head was hungry and you keep emptying his tummy."

"Why is Master Bruce vacuuming out the cars?"

"I dunno," Damien shrugged, continuing to play tetris on Bruce's computer.

"I see," Alfred nodded and returned to the kitchen.

 **Step 2: Wipe down the interiors with a child friendly solution of vinegar and water.**

"Damien! The spray bottle is not a water gun!"

"I'm shooting the grime."

"There are no guns in the house."

"I'm killing the germs."

"No."

"Bruce give it back. It's a spray bottle. Just a spray bottle."

"No."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." Damien climbed into Bruce's lap. "You really don't do well with earlier than nine in the morning, do you?" Damien looked at the article Bruce was reading about in the paper. It was about a shooting at one of the ghetto schools. Bruce was always bothered by guns.

"It could be a fire hose," suggested Damien playing with the knit on Bruce's sweater then resting his head down. There was something comforting about the smell of Bruce's cologne.

When Alfred came to check on them again, Damien was sprawled in Bruce's lap fast asleep. Bruce was snoring with one arm tucked around Damien. The newspaper was laying in a puddle.

"Very good Sirs." Alfred wiped down the interiors as a certain little boy had been rather over enthusiastic with the cleaning spray and it would not do well to let the surfaces stay wet. Sleep was so dear in Wayne manor that it was considered at the top of the discretionary activities list. If sleep was happening and something didn't absolutely need to be done, sleep continued.

 **Step 3: Wash the exteriors.**

A very important business call disrupted their nap. The phone woke Bruce and Bruce's startled jerk woke Damien.

Bruce talked and talked, fussing with the computer and pacing about the garage.

Dick made sure the car window's were done up and he made sure the tops were up on the convertibles. Hmmm.. He moved Bruce's computer back into the kitchen. He covered the tool box with a tarp.

"Damien, I'll be back in a bit, I just have to take care of something," called Bruce forgetting to make eye contact.

Alfred watched as Damien came through the kitchen. He returned shortly with his raincoat and boots. He filled a bucket with soapy water then trudged back through the house.

Alfred tapped him on the shoulder. "No boots in the house Master Damien." Alfred mopped up after the small boy who was doing his best not to slop water through the house.

"Sure thing Papa."

Alfred in retrospect thought that the rubber duckie and precision screwdriver set should have been a fairly good indication that Bruce had become derelict in his supervision duties.

The last he heard from Damien for about half an hour was the door to the garage slam shut to the off key singing of, "Rubber Duckie you're the one. You make bath time so much fun! Rubber Duckie I'm awfully fond of YOOOOUUU..."

Tim was going for a morning run. Bruce had gotten up with Damien for once so he'd probably been awakened right after Damien was done feeding and taking care of Lucy and Peck Peck. That would have been a bit before six in the morning. It was so relaxing to have a nice sleep in, then start the day with a run. There were currently about fifteen cars in the large civilian garage. Though Tim thought it was a drag washing and detailing them, Damien seemed excited about his punishment. "Daddy's going to supervise me Tim!"

Someday Bruce would figure out that D didn't care what he was doing as long as he got to do it with Bruce. You want me to crawl through stinky sewers looking for a crocodile man? Sure! Learn obscure languages with you? Sure! I'll even brave paparazzi and cheek pinching, bad talking socialites for you.

Bruce's current cluelessness was adorable thought Tim with a fiercely withheld chuckle. I never thought in my life, my brain would put the words Bruce and adorable together. Tim started running a little faster. He stopped when he saw the firetrucks pulling in through the front gate. He looked back to the house? There was no smoke.

Tim ran up watching as the firemen hopped down from the truck approaching the garage. They noted water streaming out under the doors. One fireman looked in through one of the windows. His whole body language relaxed and he started to laugh, nodding for his buddies to come look.

What's he done this time thought Tim, running up to go see what was happening. There was only one member of the household likely to result in firetrucks and laughing firemen on the front lawn.

The little monkey somehow activated the over head fire suppression sprinklers to turn the whole garage into ...

"Working at the Car Wash, Oh yeah, yeah, yeah, At the Car Wash. Car Wash!" Damien's rubber ducky playfully kissed the hood ornament on the Bentley as he danced through the rain of the sprinkler system with a large soapy sponge and full rain gear.

Tim covered his face in disbelief. I hope he didn't turn it on playing with fire, he thought. Tim looked through the spray to see a step ladder pulled up to the alarm system and a precision screwdriver set scattered nearby. Oh dear.

Alfred who was talking to the firemen, put up an umbrella and went out into the garage.

"Master Damien," he spoke as he stepped into Dick's line of sight.

Dick looked up at Alfred with a happy smile. "Papa, I made a car wash."

"I see. Perhaps you would like to proceed up to the study and inform Master Bruce that the fire department would like to speak with him. He has been tying up the household line and the cell phone for some time now."

"Why are the fire department here? I'm sure I turned off the alarm." Dick looked a little worried now. He ran out of the garage to see a pump truck, a rescue truck and a half dozen snickering firemen.

"It's not a fire. It's a car wash ... I just... umm..." Dick didn't need anyone to tell him how much trouble he was going to be in now. "Uh oh."

Alfred tapped him on the shoulder with his umbrella which had been taken down now that they were outside. He signed and spoke, "I believe you were going to speak with Master Bruce."

Dick nodded urgently, sat down on the ground, took off his rubber boots and ran back through the soggy garage and into the house in his sock feet yelling, "Don't worry Papa. I know the rules. No boots in the house!" The whole concept of soggy wet sock prints also being against the rules was the farthest thing from his mind.

A pair of firemen went to turn off the fire suppression sprinkler system.

Tim picked up the ducky that was floating down the driveway trying to contain his amusement. He hid behind the firetruck when Bruce came out. Now Tim wanted to save the world from it's own misfortune as much as the next hero but he wasn't getting between Bruce and D. Those two deserved each other.

Alfred was politely apologizing to the fire department. Explaining that the young master tended to be rather too clever for his own good and had no doubt turned off the internal alarm while being unaware that the system automatically alerted the fire department. "I am afraid gentlemen that it sometimes defies predictability quite what mischief the young master will get into."

After everyone had left, Alfred sat down both Bruce and Damien. "Master Bruce, though I understand you are upset with the choices Master Damien has made today, before you speak with him about this, who was supposed to be supervising?" There was fire in Alfred's eyes.

Bruce and Damien spent the rest of the day alphabetizing the fiction section of the library. They'd volunteered. Alfred's disapproval demanded response. Damien wiped down all the baseboards with Bruce trailing along behind him.

Barbara was taking Damien for the rest of the evening. Saturday night was often a big crime night in Gotham. The Young Justice team had a mission in South America tomorrow, plus early Monday morning there was a big prison transfer going on. A section of Arkham had been revitalized and prisoners that had been temporarily moved to Blackgate were transferring back. Notable among the transfers were Ivy, Harley and the Riddler. The rest of the week should be quieter.

Alfred and Tim dropped Damien off at Barbara's apartment.

Alfred brought a lasagne and Tim had Damien's backpack in one hand and Damien's hand in another.

"I don't have to tell her what happened today do I?" asked Damien skipping along.

"Keep living in that fantasy world where she doesn't already know," teased Tim. "Do you think you can stay out of trouble for her? Most kids don't have quite the relationship with 911 that you seem to be managing."

Jason read the emergency services report online. He shook his head and grinned.

A dialog box opened on his computer.

 _Hi Big Bird. Thank you for Friday. Oracle was going over police reports and newspaper articles. I think the Bludhaven arsonist is James Finnigan. He went to Oscar Greer Public School and a lot of the other places in his past have recently been burned. The school is having a centennial celebration this week. Are you interested._

 _Baby Bird why not give this to the cops?_

 _I don't know any Bludhaven cops._

Robin's screen went black. He looked over. Mommy Babs had hacked him?

 _It's Baby Bird's bedtime. Oracle Out._

Barbara or Oracle, smiled at the surprised expression on little Robin's face. It was so adorably confused. Eight years of computer hacking training, specialization, computer hardware and software development. He looked over at her in awe.

"You didn't loose your touch sweetie. I got better. Don't worry. You'll still be able to pull one over on Batman."

"Can you show me how you hacked into my stream like that past the firewall and the blue light encryption protocols?"

"Some of it is that I have better toys than you but it's your bedtime."

"But!"

Barbara swept Robin up into her lap and headed towards the tower's living level. She gently unclasped his cape and set his mask aside. Unlike Bruce, Alfred and Tim, Barb didn't hold back from letting herself treat Damien as a young child where she thought he might draw comfort from it. She slipped his PJ's on him and he snuggled into her arms.

"You are such a suck," she teased massaging the back of his head until his sleepy eyes were at half mast.

"I was talking to someone," yawned Damien. Maybe it should have been weird because Mommy Babs used to be his best friend. They used to be in the same class. Weird time stuff meant she was grown up age and that's just the way it was.

He looked up at her trying to imagine himself being daddy and her being mommy and somebody else that belonged to both of them being him sized, sort of like he knew he used to imagine. A five year old him kept appearing in his imagination and scolding big him. 'I don't know who you are but you're not me go away!' then five year old him would turn on the child and start yelling 'You're not real go away!" and then he'd feel a little embarrassed because was that anyway to act? Then he'd climb back in Mommy Bab's lap and everything would be okay except for feeling guilty for the bratty feelings.

Was it okay to imagine a little bit of Mom, lending Mommy Babs warmth, like an angel? Damien was oblivious that Oracle had left Jason freaking out with a short cryptic message after his screen went dark but the older him took a back seat when he was held and when she stroked his hair. He was tired. Mommy Babs always stopped talking about grown up things with him a while before bed and then insisted on a routine. If he asked her about the hacking more now she'd just tell him it was a morning thing.

Barbara lifted Damien over into his little bed and tucked him in with Bear. He wasn't all the way asleep but he was nearly there. Bruce kept saying how hard it was to get him to sleep but she never had a problem with it. Maybe the clock tower was a little less exciting and worrying then the Bat cave and the huge Manor. Her living space was small and homey? It was hard to say.

Red hood was freaking out. Baby Bird wasn't going to leave him hanging was he? 'Crud I'm talking about a preschooler.' What did Oracle know? Did he need to change bases? He scrambled for stuff and left for the Clock Tower. He needed to do some damage control. He hid the guns in a secure third location first. The Clock Tower was Bat territory and Oracle had been shot when she was paralyzed. If he took guns, it was a death sentence. Batman might not kill but Oracle thought like a cop. If she was backed into a corner by what she perceived as an immediate threat, she'd use lethal force. Jason took one gun to get him near then switched to ... um what could he use? His fingers twitched and he felt incredibly lame but he took a baton, some brass knuckles and a Taser. 'I'm so dead, again.'

Oracle knew what she'd done. She contacted Batman first, on a closed channel. "Did you know Robin was in contact with Red Hood?"

"I'll be there in 15 minutes. This isn't a topic for over com units," answered Batman. "Red Robin, continue patrol through the east side. Watch for gang traffic. I have a detour to make."

"What happened?" demanded Batman slipping into the Clock Tower silently.

"Robin asked him to investigate the arsonist James Finnigan," answered Oracle. "Did you know?"

"Where's Robin?" demanded Batman.

"Asleep in bed," answered Oracle. "Jason is Red Hood correct? The Red Hood that was using lethal force against the low life that evaded the system? Wanted on several counts of suspected murder?"

Batman sighed removing the cowl. "He was brought back to life through the combination of an inter-dimensional incident involving Superboy and a Lazareth pit. He trained under Talia's guidance for a while. A pit induces temporary insanity and effects the memory. He was so very lost. This is going to sound terrible but the best I could do for him was to stay away. As long as he wasn't in my jurisdiction..."

"What's going on with him and Robin?" asked Oracle. She noted that they were under surveillance.

"Tiny miracles. Jason's come a long way since he crawled out of that pit. I can't be the one to help him Barbara. Everything about our relationship was poisonous." Bruce knew Oracle's systems almost as well as she did. He knew they had an audience.

"So what did you do?"

"When I found out Jason went after Joker all the way to New York to protect Robin, I told Robin to stay away from Jason; that he was dangerous and yes I know my little boy. He wasn't home twenty four hours before he was reaching out. I just stayed out of it. Robin, the first Robin, Dick, he has a way with broken souls. I can't undo what I did to Jason but I can step out of the way for someone that might have a better chance at it. Dick doesn't want Jason to fix him. Dick just wants... family."

"You trusted Jason with Dick?"

"I don't know!" responded Bruce in exasperation. "I've kept an eye on it. Did you know Jason has friends now? Real friends, that aren't criminal overlords trying to use him towards their latest master plan. His last bust had zero fatalities."

Jason who'd been listening, left feeling like he couldn't breath. He stopped by Robin's room. The little guy was fast asleep cuddling his teddy bear oblivious to the machinations of genius brooding megalomaniacs.

Jason was including Oracle in the genius megalomaniac list though Bruce had the market on brooding cornered.


	8. Gotham Justice

Jason didn't like being controlled. He'd been on the bad end of other people's choices most of his life. His parents drove their lives into the ground like red necks playing chicken with borrowed tractors. His step mother was a drug addict staggering her way into an early grave. His father was one of Two Face's goons. Dad's criminally insane boss helped him into an early grave. His biological mother was into embezzlement and had gotten mixed up with the Joker. Jason and his mom had died. Bruce took him off the streets and with three months training was pretending Jason was the vigilante version of his dead son throwing him at the dark side of Gotham. Talia had brought Jason back from the dead to serve her father, the leader of a cult of assassins.

Jason was angry. It felt like he'd been angry his whole life but he'd had enough of other peoples spectacularly destructive lives messing with him.

Baby Bird had said angry works if you're in control of it. Tonight, Jason was Red Hood to the core. No control was left. Without even his guns, he threw himself at the first violent nut jobs he came across. Jumping into a minor gang war with nothing but brass knuckles, a police baton and a taser was stupid. Actually it wasn't stupid, it was STUPID!

Jason took off his helmet and tossed it in the dumpster he was slumped behind. He'd been stabbed in the stomach. The thought that he was going to die, huddled behind a dumpster, because he was too busy throwing an angry hissy fit to think straight, had sobered him. The evening was a blur. He had some first aid supplies and he did what he could to take care of himself but it wasn't going to be enough. He could hear the sounds of the gang war still continuing around him. Gun shots echoed in the night. Screams could be heard, glass breaking and things smashing. It's the lullaby of my freaking life thought Jason.

Dick felt the golden watch that Ironman or Tony had given him vibrate. He'd kept it even if it didn't work perfectly with local technology. Something about it's radio signal was very difficult to detect. Maybe it was because the watch belonged in another universe? Dick looked at the watch. It was a bio-metric alert from the tech he'd tagged Jason with when his big brother helped him go visit Bruce. Jason would be ticked if he'd known Dick had tagged him but well Batman, Robin, years of training...

Jason was in trouble. Robin would have to help. Batman and Jason were too busy being weird with each other. Robin had adapted the GPS in his watch to work locally. Robin slipped on his mask and tightened his utility belt. The night swallowed the small boy like a ghost in fog.

It was the smell of the smoke screen that woke Jason. Only Batman used that particular smoke.

A small shadow in the mist ate gangsters with web coloured like ash. It pounced down with devastating kicks then flipped away into the sky. A bird shaped throwing star pinned one thug's gun hand to a wall and Jason shook with pain and revelation.

No.

Tiny hands pressed against his wound and Jason was crying because he'd been furious that Batman might let his baby brother on the streets. The thought of it had made him sick at nights but Batman was nowhere to be found and Robin was giving him a determined brave little smile as if to reassure him everything would be fine.

Suddenly Wally West was lifting him. Little Robin climbed on West piggyback style and in a few minutes more they were at the backdoor to the Gotham Free Clinic and Doctor Leslie Thompkins was fussing at him.

"Jay?" spoke Robin worriedly. "You know Batman's going to come right?"

"Yeah," answered Jason looking at the blood covering Robin's hands but he didn't get a chance to say more because the good doctor put a mask over his face and before she could instruct him to count backwards from one to ten, the room blurred.

"You know I don't do this any more, right?" Wally asked Robin.

Robin looked at Wally giving him a helpless and confused look.

Wally shook his head and chuckled lightly. "Come on bro, let's go get you cleaned up. As soon as we've done that, call Bats and let him know where your at, though he probably already knows."

Batman was currently facing off with Commissioner Gordon over reports of a preschool sized Robin taking on a gang war successfully. Red Robin looked the Commissioner right in the eyes.

"Would you believe I got hit with a shrink ray? Obviously I am normal size now," spoke Red Robin.

The two bats melted into the night scowling but offering no further explanation. Robin called and they continued to the Gotham Free Clinic though the Batmobile was already half way there. Oracle was off line. Barbara was headed to the G.F.C. too.

"Sooo.. you know how Jason was dead?" spoke Batman to Red Robin who looked over. "He got better. He's Red Hood. Robin sneaked out to rescue him from a potentially fatal injury."

Red Robin's eyebrows raised. "Red Hood the killer?"

Batman gave no response.

Batman and Red Robin stealthed into the back of the clinic.

Wally stayed until he saw Batman. "Hey, I've got a Robin here who really needs his Batman," Wally hadn't even finished his sentence before Robin launched himself at Batman.

"Thank you," Batman muttered to Wally as he passed.

Wally fist bumped Robin to say goodbye. "The tux fitting for the wedding is the week after next on Thursday. Don't be late." Sighing a little, Wally belatedly remembered to pass over a plastic bag with Robin's uniform gloves in it. They'd not been able to wash the blood out. The dark of night, the gangs with knifes and guns, even Batman's potential disapproval hadn't bothered little Robin but Wally had to put the gloves out of sight to get his little buddy to stop shaking. Artemis would be waiting up for him. The entirety of Robin's call for aid could be summed up as...

"Rob? Calm down and repeat that?" Wally had spoken as he answered the com-link still tucked in the side table beside his drawer.

Artemis had looked over and spoken only one word. "Go!"

Jason woke to the feel of silk sheets, the smell of lemon furniture polish and the soft rumble of Bruce's voice.

"Little burrito bat, go to sleep," Bruce's deep soft voice teased.

"No. I want to see him wake up. He is going to wake up right?" That voice could only be the baby bird. It sounded tired and cranky and like he'd been crying.

Jason's eyes opened a crack and he looked over. Bruce was sat in a high backed wing chair beside the bed holding a squirming baby bird that he kept playfully snugging up in a blanket; flipping the blanket over the little guy's face then peaking in and teasing, "Go to sleep, burrito or I'll eat you up." He then pretended to nom, nom, nom little Robin who was all wrapped up in a blanket like a, well,... like a burrito.

"Don't eat me!" Robin shrieked giggling.

Damien, Jason corrected himself blearily. He goes by Damien in civies not Robin.

"Shhh! Oh, never mind. Look who's awake," spoke Bruce softly, gently. "Jason, how are you feeling?"

Jason would later insist it was the drugs. He started crying silent tears. It had never until this moment occurred to him that the Batman he had known had been anything less than a higher power that he could trust with his salvation or blamed for his damnation.

Jason knew the history. Batman had been created after Bruce's parents had been murdered in front of him. How stupid had he been as a child not to realise a hurt and damaged person was hiding behind the cowl. The death of his son who he'd taken in and shared his whole world with? Batman was just as freaking lost as he was. Jason wondered if the revelation would stick when the drugs faded from his system.

Robin or Damien, Jason supposed, wriggled away from Bruce and untangled himself from the blanket he was wrapped in. He was dressed in pj's covered in skateboarding floppy earred rabbits. He brought Jason the tissue box and held it up for him looking ever so worried.

Jason reached out and sleepily and ruffled Damien's hair with a pained smile. Damien smiled back at him tentatively then yawned obviously exhausted.

"It's a big bed," spoke Jason softly. "Climb up on the other side and go to sleep baby bird."

"Still not a baby," grumped Damien but he climbed on the bed and in moments was asleep with both his small hands holding tight to one of Jason's hands.

Jason stared at him for a moment. Cute little bugger. It felt all warm and squiggly to be worried about in that hug my teddy bear kind of way. Oooh man,... they must have me on some serious meds.

"If it's not too creepy for words, I'll guard your sleep. Rest Jason. We'll talk but it can wait for now," spoke the pod person Bruce.

"A little creepy but not super creepy," muttered Jason blearily thinking back to when he'd been younger. Too creepy for words... a much younger Jason told Bruce that once. "I am such a Joker's fart of a broken mess."

"Umm," answered Bruce with a soft hum of agreement and oddly enough commiseration.

The next while was something of a blur to Jason but probably the most terrifying thing was that the Red Hood Helmet had been found by police with DNA that had been linked to Jason. Police had been by the mansion. Lawyers in crisp pressed suits. The police commissioner had wanted to talk and Jason was pretty heavily drugged. He wasn't sure what he'd told anyone. He knew he had the intent to keep the 'Big Secret' but as his medication was reduced and Alfred came with broth and soda crackers the first food he'd had in an indeterminate time Jason asked Alfred what was going on.

"What do you remember Master Jason?" asked Alfred kindly.

Alfred and Damien had been constant and non-judgemental. Tim had been wary and watchful. Bruce had been just weird, too kind, too understanding, too not Batman. There had been yelling but the Baby Bird had family freaking out radar and, well no one really wanted to fight in front of Damien. Alfred must be acting as Damien's informant. They were working together or something.

"I know I was outed as Hood. Was anyone else outed?" Jason asked. Whatever his problems with Bats, exposing the identities of Batman, Red Robin and Robin was not something he wanted.

"No indeed. The case is going well. No untruths have been spoken but not every secret has been revealed. Every criminal investigation withholds some secrets Master Jason."

Alfred had gone on to explain that the truth had come out that Jason had been taken against his will by a criminal organization intent on brainwashing him to act against Bruce.

Kind of hard to have an opinion about being taken when he was already dead, thought Jason. They must be implying that he was never really dead or something.

Alfred further explained that the police now understood, the Joker was involved with Jason's initial disappearence however due to a lack of available evidence, this portion of the reported events was unconfirmed.

Jason was pretty sure Batman was ensuring no evidence involving Joker was available. It linked too closely to bat secrets. Okay so he'd been firmly established as a victim of crime?

Oh... yeah the brainwashing and chemical madness from the green goo... Jay remembered babbling to lawyers, social workers and psychologists about that. He remembered the Gordan chick helping Damien show complex math charts the little guyed prepared, illustrating how Red Hood incidents of violence had trended down since his initial exposure and escape from the assassins guild.

He remembered thinking why for the love of Two Face's tears won't anyone get the Baby Robin back in daycare. The smiley face stickers on the charts and Damien's desperate defense of him was soul crushing.

"Alfie? Bruce was in a big rush about this all?" asked Jason confused.

"Yes Master Jason. He wanted to ensure that you would have the best opportunity to be given the benefit of the juvenile court system."

"What day is it, err rather month is it?" muttered Jason. Jason had completely forgotten that in the eyes of the law he was still a minor and could potentially be tried as a minor. He hadn't felt like a child for years.

"You're birthday is very soon but with the proceedings almost complete we are hopeful."

Jason wasn't sure how he felt about that. He remembered confessing to killing people. Would his confessions even be admissible given how out of it he'd been? What verdict was even right? He remembered Tim hanging back in the shadows but always there if Damien was visiting; watching him like a hawk. I might be all kinds of scum but I wouldn't hurt the Baby Bird, thought Jason resentfully.

Jason actually had to go to court for the final shebang. He was still wheelchair bound. He'd managed to mess himself up good.

He was going home? He was under house arrest for a year. He'd have regularly scheduled visits with a shrink. Because he'd been tried as a minor the details had been kept out of the press. He, Jason Todd-Wayne was legally alive.

He remembered the last question the judge had asked before she'd passed sentence. It was a long winded version of would he be able to stop himself from killing again.

Jason had looked over at his, his baby brother then looked back at the judge. "Your Honor, everyone has limits. I can't tell you I wouldn't kill to save my own life because it ain't true. There are people I will always need to protect, family, friends who are as good as family who fall into the same category." Harper and Roy were waiting in the coffee shop across the street to learn what would go down. "Don't even get me started on how I feel about the Joker but other than that? I don't need to kill."

It was Gotham. The Gotham justice system had a strong precident towards second chances even for the potentially undeserving. The poor street urchin with the tortured past, adopted by the city's beloved prince then kidnapped with his family convinced he was dead. The poor victim brainwashed until he was a killer in a Red Helmet was getting a second chance. Apparently in Gotham wanting to kill the Joker was acceptable and the Judge thought his honesty about killing if his family or friends were threatened was proof of good will and the power of therapy or some crap like that.

The ankle monitor he had to wear was a joke, thought Jason. An ankle monitor to make sure the police knew if he left the Wayne estate? His baby brother could hack it in his sleep.

The clean slate kind of bothered Jason. He knew it wasn't going to turn him into an angel.

Tim was still wary. Bruce was still a freaking pod person. He wasn't angry enough. He was too patient and too forgiving. Alfred was always a constant. Damien was this weird mix of big brother and baby brother. He was a mischievous conniving little devil, no one could hope to control but he was so good hearted you couldn't really stay mad at him. He was really fun to tickle.

Alfie said Bruce would grouch up good when he'd had some time to forget to be thankful for the two dead sons restored who he'd been given a second chance with. Well, thought Jason, that wasn't quite how Alfie'd put it but Alfie was too eloquent to quote easily.

Damien kept getting ear infections where he'd spike kinda terrifying fevers. Doc Leslie insisted on surgery now rather than in November. Following one surgery at Gotham General, he was whisked up to the Watchtower for a second surgery by the Martians. The Martian chick kept Robin in dreamland sans sedation while the Martian dude did some telekinetic micro repair with the help of high tech Watchtower medical devices doing stuff.

A Baby Bird who could hear: was extra loud, less careful and honestly didn't seem to listen much more than he ever had. And he liked to dance acro style hip hop and sing and jump on beds way too much and his little friend Cat the concert violinist? That kid only made it 10 billion times worse! Bruce just had to get Dami that stupid tiny violin. Cat could play so sweet it would tame Ivy's plants but Dami sounded like he was torturing cats.

Bruce finally got to hear the song Dami'd learnt while he was away from home. Gah! It was a sap fest! Cat helped Dami polish it on violin then backed him up on piano and Dami'd spoken the words, the freaking Boy Wonder even was too embarrased to sing the words they were so sappy and that kid was a show off from way back.*

The Wayne grounds were large and Bruce, who Jason still had problems with was gone most of the day. Jason did get antsy for the dark wild streets and a less confined life. Depression settled around him. He felt like half of a person.

Clark had written an article just recently and had come to the manner to show Jason in person. Dami thought Superman was sliced bread. Jason could agree with Bruce on one point. The Superman worship was super annoying. Anyway Mr. Kent had written an article at Dami's request to counter some of the gossip rag stuff that had been getting Jason down. Everything seemed to be getting Jason down. The more he healed the more trapped he felt.

Roy keep him supplied with smokes but Bruce was trying to get him to quit and Alfie only let him smoke outside. The no drinking was kind of depressing too but it was a little law, it wasn't worth breaking it. Police, social workers and psychologists were all watching. It was only a few years till he'd be twenty-one.

Jay sat and resignedly read Clark Kent's article. Part of it stood out. "...An anonymous youth whose identity is protected under the juvenile justice system was drugged and brainwashed into a world of violence. Despite the best efforts of villians and evil minded criminals the boy's sense of justice redeemed Joker's legacy of the Red Hood at least a little. Rather than fall completely into darkness, this Red Hood's worst, fell upon the most evil of criminals..." Well, maybe Superman didn't completely suck. Jay smirked.

"But Jay you're just like Nightwing from the legend Uncle Clark told us. You're twice born and made new! I know you're going stir crazy! So am I!" piped Robin. They were down in the Bat cave.

"Birdie, Bats will never let me on the street again."

"It's in your blood and it's a part of who you are. You can't be Hood but you could be someone new."

"I do like the bird but the blue ain't my style. Make the bird red. Oh and I want electricity piped through those wacking sticks; like you said that Black Widow chick had. Supes you gotta stop telling this guy bed time stories. You're giving him ideas," teased Jay with a devilish smile.

"Don't you two dare blame this on me!" protested Superman.

Robin furiously set to colouring a new picture. His crayons were scattered all around. "Do you want a mask, a helmet or a cowl?"

"Master Jason if you must do this, please start on the team. There are good people there that know how be a hero without loosing your heart. Please my boy, do not close yourself off like you have in the past."

Jason respected Alfred so his reply was non-hostile. ''I think most of them are too shiny to want anything to do with me." Man Alfie was quiet. No one even heard him come down into the cave.

"There's Arsenal and Red Arrow," offered Robin.

"Conner has expressed interest in moving away from the team and branching out into something a little more hardcore," spoke Superman. "He is not interested in joining the League."

"I can suggest a few others," spoke the gravelly tone of the Bat. "We need a group to work a little outside the strict boundaries of the League. The Young Justice team is still a proving ground for younger more idealistic heroes..."

"Outsiders?" Jay looked back at Batman astonished.

The end? The beginning?

 *** "A Bird Without Wings" was a major inspirational song in this fic and the one that proceeded it.**


End file.
